


Tinker Tailor Husband Spy

by ataratah



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ataratah/pseuds/ataratah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy has a plan, Harry has a proposal. Together they <strike>fight crime</strike> get married. And then they fight <strike>crime</strike> about whose turn it is to do the dishes. And also crime.  </p><p>There are no tinkers in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tinker Tailor Husband Spy

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [Kingsman Big Bang](http://kingsmanbb.tumblr.com/) challenge.
> 
> [Kuroo-tetsvrou](http://kuroo-tetsvrou.tumblr.com/) (formerly known as lopbunny) provided an amazing [aesthetic set](http://kuroo-tetsvrou.tumblr.com/post/135286033553/aesthetic-set-for-ataratahs-cute-and-domestic-af) for this story.
> 
> [Chinese translation](http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-198743-1-1.html) available, thanks to [orange_s](http://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_s)!
> 
> Thanks to JJ for the beta!

Until Dean had made the deal, Eggsy hadn't been allowed in the Black Prince, chaperoned or not. Not that it would have stopped Eggsy from trying to sneak in, if the bartender had been the type to serve unaccompanied omegas. The place was traditional, for all it attracted some of the more disreputable thugs in London. For instance, Dean.

Of course, now that he could go in, he sure as fuck didn't want to - but what Eggsy wanted didn't matter, apparently, and never had.

"Wait here, right?" He told Jamal and Ryan. They shifted, looking at each other awkwardly, but finally waved him off.

There was another man at Adrian's table, drinking a guinness, cool as anything, even though his tailored suit was the only one the Black Prince had probably ever seen. He definitely wasn't one of Dean's hounds, and his slightly bemused expression said he he probably wasn't one of Adrian's either. Fit too, so Eggsy forced himself to look away, since Adrian - who was not remotely fit - was as possessive of Eggsy's attention as if they had a love match, and not some backroom bought-and-paid-for deal with Eggsy's stepdad.

Like Eggsy would _want_ to marry some aging arms dealer - complete with a string of deceased spouses. Fuck that. For years, Dean had whittled away at anything Eggsy cared about. His gymnastics, his grades, even the driving - and Eggsy should have known it wasn't a good sign he seemed happy enough to let Michelle have her way when it came to Eggsy's reputation, keeping him away from alphas, chaperoned with the other omegas in the neighborhood, like he was worth protecting. 

"'ere," Eggsy said, handing over the packet, stopping just out of range of where Adrian could grab him and pull him into his lap. 

Adrian pocketed it quickly before giving Eggsy an oily smile, "stay for a drink, love?" 

"Nah, can't keep Jamal waiting," Eggsy said, already edging backward.

Adrian sniffed, "Used to be, chaperones had to be older than their charges, upstanding omegas on their own right, and all."

Jamal _was_ older - by a year, anyway - and already a widower, his alpha having died in Afghanistan a few months into their arranged marriage. Respectable enough, at face value, though it wasn't worth bringing up just to retread one of Adrian's pet arguments.

"Stay a bit, there's a lad."

"You look busy," Eggsy said, keeping his voice flat and even.

"Nonsense, Harry won't mind, will you Harry?"

Harry eyed them both over his thick rimmed glasses. Eggsy suspected Adrian didn't notice, but the look Harry was giving him was a bit disdainful. Taking his suit into it, he was probably the sort who thought money was better if it was aged over a few generations, like wine, or some shit. New money - particularly Adrian's designer and digital version of it, in comparison, was cause for scorn. The thought of having no money at all was probably inconceivable. But his eyes when they looked at Eggsy seemed… almost kind.

"Of course I don't mind. It's delightful to meet you…?"

"Eggsy Unwin." 

Harry's eyes widened, "Eggsy?"

"Nickname." Eggsy explained briefly.

"My fiance," Adrian added, smugly.

His expression stayed even, but the way Harry's eyes darted between Eggsy and Adrian implied he was taken aback. Eggsy couldn't tell if the weight of his judgement would fall on Eggsy for being less than well-heeled, or Adrian for being older and undeniably creepy. 

"Look, it was nice meeting you an' all, but I really have got to go. Promised mum I'd be home for dinner, yeah?"

"I see, want to get your mum's cooking while you can, eh?" Adrian winked, all fake indulgence. Run along then."

 

"I can't marry him," Eggsy blurted out before they were halfway down the block. 

"Try getting it out of it, bruv," Ryan said, "s'a done deal already though, innit?"  
"Dean's not going back on it, that's for sure. You know the price your alpha's promised for you?" Jamal whistled under his breath. "You run off, he'd just get his lot to haul you back in chains, for that price."

"I'll think of something," Eggsy said, his mind already whirling with options.

♠

Except then it was going dark, and Eggsy hadn't thought of anything. They were loitering outside a chemist, Ryan fucking around on his phone, Jamal vaping. Eggsy was considering just bashing his head against the bricks when the hottest car he'd ever seen pulled up.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Harry called to them.

"Gentl'men, he says," Ryan guffawed.

Eggsy stalked over to the car, and leaned in the window, "sorry, not that kind of omega, 'member?"

"I understand, but I was hoping I might beg some assistance getting home."

"You telling me that car don't have GPS?"

"Unfortunately, I need more help than simple directions."

"Like get in the car with you?"

"That would be a requirement, yes," Harry replied.

Eggsy rolled his eyes, "Think I was born yesterday, yeah? Adrian would kill us both," and went to pull away from the window.

Harry reached out and grabbed his wrist, loose, and non-threatening, but his hand was strong. And warm.

"I'm sorry, I really don't mean anything untoward, but I--I'm not in a condition to drive. And I get the impression that this isn't the best place to leave my car, and catch a cab," Harry said softly enough that Jamal and Ryan couldn't overhear.

"Yeah, you don't want to do that if you want you or your car to see the sunrise, guv," he said, brow creasing in concern, "you ain't just lost or wha'ever? Was it Adrian, or-?"

"No, no, I had, well - another errand in the area afterward that went a bit south."

"You really no good to drive?"

"I was rather hoping I could ask you to."

"Me? Drive this car?"

"Yes."

"You ain't worried I'll carjack you?"

"You'd regret it, if you tried."

"I would, eh? You got a hatchet in the back or something?" He sighed wistfully, "I dunno, they gave us freaking pamphlets warning us against this kind of shite in school."

"You're right to prioritize your own safety, of course. But - and I don't know if it's even worth mentioning - this car has a V8 engine, and can go from zero to 100 kilometers per hour in under six seconds."

A flash of true yearning speared through Eggsy. He'd never get a crack at something this sweet - not legally, anyway, and in a few weeks, the fastest thing he'd be driving would be a vacuum. Although he wouldn't be getting married, period, if Adrian found out he was riding around with some strange alpha, all alone.

...Perfect.

"Got me there, can't bear to pass up a chance to drive a baby this sweet, even if you do murder me," Eggsy lied, "And, uh, altruism or something." He called back over his shoulder, "'Oi, Jamal, if I get dead, tell my mum I loved 'er, yeah?"

Jamal responded with a light hearted, "cheers, mate," and a swift shot of Harry's face with his camera phone, the light of the flash dazzling Eggsy's eyes for a moment, "for the constables, if they fish you out a ditch!"

"You are the worst fucking chaperone, bruv," Eggsy called back to Jamal.

"You're welcome," Jamal winked back, a wicked look on his face.

Ryan rolled his eyes, and threw Eggsy a three fingered salute, "Make it count mate."

Eggsy practically dove into the driver's seat, giving Harry just enough time to scoot over the passenger side. "Hello, you gorgeous creature," he cooed.

"How flattering." 

"I was talking to the car," he said, petting the dash reverently.

"I suppose I am a bit outmatched in comparison," Harry replied dryly.

"You mind if I drive fast?"

"I'd prefer it actually."

Eggsy grinned, a quick, feral flash of teeth, and then he was pulling out into traffic, bullet swift, weaving around a spot of congestion and darting through a yellow light, just as it turned. 

"Your car handles a dream, bruv. Where we going, anyway?'

Harry gave him the general direction, and Eggsy nodded in recognition, and picked up a little more speed.

"So why you need help, bruv?" Eggsy ticked off points, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, "Not drunk, 'cause you ain't slurring or anything. Not sleep deprived, 'cause you ain't drifting off. Not a migraine, cause you don't mind me talkin', even if you keep twitching out of the light. Could be high, sure, but then you won't lean your head against the seat, so I figure it's gotta be tender, right? You worried about a concussion?"

"That's it exactly, Eggsy. An excellent bit of deductive reasoning." Harry said, sounding amused.

Eggsy brushed off the praise, "nah, just common sense, innit?"

Harry chuckled, "nothing common about it. The ability to observe your surroundings and come to the correct conclusion is, sadly, a rare skill."

"Kind of a matter of survival where I come from, bruv," Eggsy shrugged, "You got someone to look after you, yeah?"

"No, but I don't think it's quite that bad."

"Not exactly chuffed at the idea of leaving you to bleed your brain out your ears."

"That's very kind of you, Eggsy, but you've done more than enough. And your imagery, while quite graphic, thank you, is not exactly accurate."

"Not kind to not want to be hauled in front of the constables as 'last man seen with dead bloke," Eggsy pointed out, "c'mon, handsome guy like you, smelling like that, you saying you don't have anyone?"

"Ah, as it happens, you could say I'm married to my work, but I'm otherwise unattached.

"Just in the habit of driving around with single young omegas, like me?"

"You're an exception."

"'Cause if I weren't, that would maybe explain some things."

"Oh?"

"Got a black car 'as been following us for since three turns back now."

"Shit," Harry said, turning to look, "I don't suppose…"

"I'll lose him," Eggsy said, and did a reverse left turn into an alley, and cutting loose, unleashing the car's full, exhilarating potential. He shot backwards around corners, and side streets, reveling in the speed, and adrenaline. Well, until Harry started making gagging sounds, and groped around the glove box for a bag.

"Sorry about that," Eggsy yanked the handbrake, throwing the car into an abrupt 90 degree turn, and taking off in the proper direction without losing too much time to the maneuver. A few more hairpin turns, and Eggsy couldn't see anyone behind him except an old VW bug, trundling along at well below the speed limit.

"Lost 'em," Eggsy said.

"I can see that," Harry replied, and failing to modulate the disbelief in his tone, "how on earth did you learn to drive like that?"

"My stepdad's a bit of a bastard, yeah? Didn't ever want to teach me nothin', so he got 'ole Ted to do it. Well, until he got arrested anyway. Mostly he was a cabbie, but sometimes he did other heis-- uh, gigs. So he didn't exactly stick with just teaching me parallel parking. I know all the tricks."

"And he taught an omega?"

"He _was_ an omega, just old enough he could mostly do what he wanted. Gave me a bit of a head start."

"Impressive," Harry murmured.

"Yeah, well, this car's flashy enough they may find us again, so I'd say we get off the road sooner rather than later."

"There's a hotel down the block, with valet parking and a discreet staff. On your left, now."

♠

The hotel was posh as fuck, and the staff, all shiny in actual brass buttoned uniforms, looked at Eggsy like he was gum tracked in on Harry's shoes. But they didn't say nothing, just pursed their lips, and avoided his eyes. Eggsy winked at the gent at the front desk, and he practically winced as he handed Harry a single key card.

"We don't exactly rent rooms by the hour here, Mr. Hart. I hope you'll appreciate that we're making an exception by allowing you to entertain your guest here, and refrain from bothering the other guests?"

"Rude," Eggsy muttered.

"Quite so, Eggsy," Harry said, "and I hope I won't need to take up your lack of manners with your manager, Mr. Smythe," making the set down so smooth and dark it practically gave Eggsy chills. It didn't help that then he set his hand in the small of Eggsy's back and propelled him toward the elevator.

"Don't you want me to bugger off, then? I could catch a cab, easy," Eggsy said, then bit his lip. He'd planned on being out all night, and alone in a hotel room with an alpha would definitely do the job, and get him compromised thoroughly enough, no matter what they got up to. And if Eggsy hadn't planned on really going for anything more, well. That was before he'd met Harry Hart, who smelled like earl grey and leather, a nostalgic wisp of memory he couldn't place, intriguing and dangerous, and fit as fuck. 

♠

Once in the hotel room, though, Harry failed to make any kind of move, instead of slumping to the bed, and groaning - and not in the good way.

"Ice?" Eggsy suggested sympathetically.

"Yes, please, if you could."

Eggsy grabbed a small towel from the bathroom - softer than he was expecting, softer than his own for sure - and fetched ice from the mini fridge.

"You ain't bleedin', either?" 

"No, I don't believe so," Harry felt delicately through his hair, and hissed. Eggsy pushed his hand aside, and placed the ice-filled towel gently over the spot behind his left temple.

"Hold this," Eggsy ordered, "and lay down."

"Not in this suit," Harry protested, "it'll wrinkle."

Eggsy rolled his eyes, "then take it off!"

Harry pursed his lips, "I'm not sure that would be entirely appropriate."

He marched into the bathroom, grabbed a robe - even fucking softer than the towel - and threw it over Harry's stubborn head. Then he shut himself in the bathroom so Harry could change into it.

"Thank you, you can come back out," Harry said.

"I'm glad you care so much about the integrity of my virgin eyes, here," Eggsy griped, and helped Harry reposition the towel again.

"But you are a virgin, aren't you?" Harry asked bluntly, his eyes level with Eggsy's. 

Only the biting cold from the towel kept Eggsy from falling closer into him, into his warm scent, and warmer eyes. He jerked back, letting go of the towel. Harry was already holding onto it, anyway.

"None of your business, is it?"

"It very much so is. If you aren't a virgin, I could get up to all kinds of things with you, alone in a hotel room," Harry teased.

"Says the man with a head wound. Ambitious, aintcha?" Eggsy replied, pulling the blankets back, and urging Harry to slip into the bed, before dimming the lights, "go on, sleep. I'll wake you in two hours."

"Don't steal anything anything while I sleep," Harry murmured, already half way out.

"Not promisin' anything, guv. Those towels are mine."

 

Harry grumbled each time Eggsy woke him up, but answered his questions easily enough - who was the prime minister? What year was it? How many planets were there? Harry said nine to that one, but Eggsy let it go. He was probably out of danger, Eggsy thought, as it neared six am. He was tired, and sore from sitting up in the room's stiff-backed chairs all night. So he eased himself gently onto the very corner of the bed, careful not to disturb Harry. He only had to stay away for a little while longer.

 

Eggsy woke later to sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. He was warm all along one side, but cold on the other - oh, he'd fallen asleep on top of the blankets. And… on top of Harry, his head had somehow become pillowed on his shoulder while he slept. The scent of Harry, rich and near, was intoxicating, and only the chill along his back kept him from slipping back into drowsing sleep. He pulled himself up to find Harry gazing at him fondly.

"You missed the six am alert, but I heard the alarm go off, and thought you could use the sleep more than me, at that point."

"Fuck, what time is it?"

"Nearing 10 now."

"Shit, I should go - you're ok, right?"

"I'll live. What's more, I'll drive you home, if you'll wait just a moment,” Harry said, his voice thick with amusement as he watched Eggsy race around the room, gathering his phone, and wallet.

"So you can get beat on by my step dad? No offense, but that's a terrible idea."

"Let me give you money for a cab then."  
Eggsy had never liked handouts, but Harry owed him, right? "Alright, yeah."

Except then Harry took forever, peeling bills slowly from the giant wad he had stuffed in an honest-to-god money clip.

"Word of advice," Eggsy said, taking the bills, "never carry that much money ‘round in my neighborhood ever again. I'd mug you myself, I'm that tempted."

"You could try," Harry winked, "Oh, I should give you my number, you can let me know you've made it home safely."

Home hadn't been safe for years, Eggsy didn't say, "Nah, don't worry about me, I'll be fine," he slipped out the door, before Harry could ask anything else, and legged it for the stairs.

He thought he heard Harry call his name, but he didn't pay it much mind. If he let Harry think it through, his conscience might catch up with him. Against the odds, Harry was pretty decent for a bloke Eggsy had met drinking in a shady pub with shadier people.

Halfway down his last flight of stairs, he stopped and cursed. He hadn't snatched a single bloody towel.

♠

Dean had Eggsy slammed up against the wall about two seconds after he strolled in the door. Eggsy had expected it, but it was still a shock, brutal and sudden.  
"Who were you out with?" Dean practically spit the question in Eggsy's face.

"Stayed over Jamal's," Eggsy said, not trying to lie well. Dean wouldn't expect him to tell the truth, if it even mattered. Staying up half the night to make sure a business associate of his fiance didn't die in his sleep might sound decent in theory, but all night in a hotel with an alpha? His reputation was trashed, even if he had snuck out, first thing, before he could figure out what Harry might want to use the bed for once he was recovered. 

Dean knew it, too. His eyes narrowed, and he pressed his fist up under Eggsy's chin, pinning him.

"Don't fucking lie, Poodle 'ere saw you get in some posh geezer's car an' drive off. You think I don't know you probably ended up in some fucking motel, if not ass up in the back seat? You give me a fucking name!"

"I don't know what you're on about!"

"You think you can pull this shit just when I've lined up an alpha what'll pay good money to marry your virgin ass, Mugsy?"

"So fucking concerned about my reputation like you actually give a shit about anything other than a payday. Maybe I wanted to decide what I wanted to do with my own ass, yeah?"

"Nuh uh," Dean continued, practically shaking him, "You want to give it up to anyone, may as well of been peddling it on the street corner for years now. You better be ready to make it up an' all."

"The hell I will," Eggsy spat back, pushing at Dean's shoulders, jostling him out of his face. 

Eggsy could see his mother in the corner, hand over her mouth, shoulders rounded and small, her eyes wide with disappointment and fear. He might have felt bad about the disappointment, but he thought she could tell that he had his own disappointment to bear, that she would let it come to this.

"Or I could toss you out right now, don't fucking think I won't," he growled, grabbing Eggsy's throat, his thumb digging under Eggsy's chin.

"Dean, don't!" His mother cried.

"That geezer's the first one who owes me money for your ass, and I'm going to collect. Now tell me his fucking name!"

"I don't know who you're talkin' about!" 

"Fucking tell me!"

A loud rapping at the door interrupted Dean's tirrade, and the just stared at the door for a minute.

"If that's Adrian, you'll get down on your knees, you hear?"

"The hell I-"

The door cracked open - Eggsy hadn't locked it behind him.

"Excuse me, but I heard you were looking for me. Literally, in fact," Harry said, strolling in the door as casually as if he'd been invited, his eyes lingering on the dingy furnishings and peeling paint.

Dean reluctantly dropped his hand from Eggsy's throat so he could face Harry.

"This him?" He asked Eggsy.

"Nah, traveling salesman probably," Eggsy said, trying desperately to wave at Harry to go without Dean noticing.

Dean gave him a disdainful look, "Less lyin' out you, boy," and casually backhanded him to the floor.

Harry's eyes as he looked down at Eggsy were dark, but Eggsy couldn't tell what he was thinking. If he was sane, he'd be regretting following Eggsy here, for sure.

"You know, if you do want me to pay for him, I'd suggest you desist from damaging the boy, Mr. Baker," he said.

"Oh, you're gonna pay," Dean said, cracking his knuckles, "but don't think you're getting another crack at this 'un. You want a rent boy, they're on the corner of Smith Street."

Harry's mouth twisted, "I was thinking of a more permanent arrangement, actually."

"A little late to pay full mate price, innit?" Dean sneered.

"Would you honestly quibble with me if I would?"

"Wait a minute, who says I want to marry you?" Eggsy said, drawing himself up.

"Eggsy, I raised you better than that!" Michelle finally spoke up. "You better marry him, if he'll have you."

"If he pays what we were originally promised, he can have him," Dean spat.

"You're going to negotiate price at a time like this?" Michelle cried.

"Listen here, woman, this is my house, an' what I say goes, and I says I've been feedin' your brat for years now, I've earned a payday for 'im."

Michelle set her hands on her hips, and with an uncharacteristic look of steel in her eye said, "my son ain't working the streets, you hear me?"

Dean roared and punched the wall. Eggsy flinched, and poor Daisy, finally woken from her nap, wailed from the back room. Only Michelle stayed firm, eyes narrowing at the display.

"Fine. He can marry anyone daft enough to have him, but he ain't stepping one foot around here after this, or I swear I'll--"

"Thank you, Mr. Baker, but additional threats are quite unnecessary, if things are resolved to everyone's satisfaction."

"Oi, do I get a say in this?" Eggsy asked.

"Of course," Harry said.

"NO," said Dean and Michelle.

♠

Harry brought him to an elegant little house in a neighborhood completely unlike the one Eggsy had grown up in.

When Harry left to fix them tea, Eggsy could only look around at the expensive wooden furniture, leather bound books, and oriental carpets and wonder how he could possible fit into this space. Maybe he could hide behind a cupboard, like the ridiculously large flatscreen telly, or under a decorative box, like the phone chargers. Everything brash and modern was tucked away under something old and refined. It was ridiculous - _he_ was ridiculous for thinking he could stay here, for even a moment.

"I should go," Eggsy told Harry, as he set down the tea.

"I didn't think this brand was so offensive it would send you fleeing out the door before you even drank it," Harry said, blowing gently on the steam rising from his cup, "sit down and try it, and we can talk about what’s got you so on edge."

"No point, really," Eggsy shrugged, "Look, you got me out of my step dad's house, and out of my engagement, which is honestly enough for me to owe you until the end of time. You don't need to actually marry me on top of all that."

"Let's say I don't. What will you do?"

"I could stay with Jamal, maybe. Try working. I'd figure it out."

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, the Omega Rights Movement hasn't made so much progress that you can gain legal employment without the permission of your alpha-on-record," Harry eyed him over the rim of his glasses, expression neutral.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've earned money for something less than legal."

"Mmm, I see. And yet, as we've established, neither of us care for the idea of the less than legal work your step father had in mind for you. And I believe if you stayed with your friend, he _would_ find you."

Eggsy pictured it - he'd probably be able to hide with Jamal for a week before Dean'd send someone after him - Poodle breaking down Jamal's door, dragging Eggsy off by scruff. It wasn't a pretty picture. 

He sank down on the sofa in defeat, "So, what d'you think I should do?"

"Marry, obviously," Harry said dryly, "I understand the idea can't hold a lot of appeal for someone as young as yourself, but you'd be secure, with money - even work, if you wanted - and a place to live."

"Oi, how young d'you think I am? I'm old enough to get married."

Harry coughed delicately, "I was referring to my own age. We wouldn't necessarily have a full measure of years together."

Eggsy rolled his eyes, "My dad died before he was 30. Jamal's mate didn't make it to 20. Youth ain't always a guarantee you're going to be around forever, yeah?"

"Those examples are outliers, however, since both individuals were in statistically unsafe professions," Harry pointed out.

"Whereas you, a tailor, clearly ain't fussed about head injuries," Eggsy added.

Harry didn't argue about his profession, "you're making my point for me. Ideally, you'd be better off with someone much younger, in a stable, low-risk profession."

"Oh yeah, sounds great. You got an alpha like that around here somewhere, do ya? In the attic, maybe? Under here?" Eggsy made a show of bending down to check beneath the sofa.

Harry pulled him up, those surprisingly strong hands gripping his shoulders.

"My point is, I can't offer you any good choices. Marrying me is simply the least shitty of your available choices. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to strive for something you want."

Eggsy didn't tell Harry what it was he thought he actually deserved. What he'd always _wanted_ was someone less horrible than Dean, who might be compelled to love him a little. Harry, responsible, decent, and generous was so far beyond anything he'd ever imagined for himself.

"Look, if you ain't serious about it, don't play honorable, yeah? Ain't no one gonna duel you over my virtue. You want out, just fucking saying it."

"I don't want out. But you deserve so much better than what I can offer you."

"I don't know that you've noticed, but ain't a lot of people get what they deserve in the real world here, bruv." Eggsy said.

"True enough," Harry said with a sigh, "I'll get the papers in order."

 

Over breakfast the next morning - after a bit of a scare in Harry's abattoir of a loo - Eggsy mustered up the remains of his courage and dignity and said, "You having second thoughts, yeah?"

Harry looked up at him startled, "Pardon me?"

"You ain't spoke a word to me since Mr. Pickle, I figured you had enough time to regret offering for me, so--"

"Has it occurred to you that I may simply not be a morning person?" Harry asked, bemused, "why on earth would I spend all evening making wedding arrangements and then change my mind at the last minute."

"What do you even get of this, bruv?" Eggsy insisted.

"I gain the company of a young man with a great deal of potential. A young man who's ruined his reputation on my behalf, even if his reputation was all he had," Harry said, his usually warm brown eyes gone glittering with challenge.

"What the fuck does that mean?" 

"Good grades in primary school turning rubbish, abandoning a promising career as a gymnast--"

Eggsy bristled, "I don't know how you know about that, but you've got no fucking right to throw that in my face. We omegas ain't all raised in ivory towers, silver spoons up our asses ‘til we can take a knot. You've got no idea what my life's been like."

"No, I don't. But I won't sit here and watch you throw it away because you've got a chip on your shoulder. I intend to do right by you, Eggsy, as I promised your mother, and as I promised you last night."

"--the hell does that mean?"

"Having compromised you--"

"--I don't care what Dean or my mum says, we both know you didn't touch me, and I don't have to marry some random who keeps dead dogs in the loo. So thanks, but no thanks."

"Haven't we been through this? I don't pity you, if that's what you're worried about."

Eggsy stared at him, "Are you taking the piss? You're completely fine with the idea of marrying _me_? Because, why? You got lost in a bad neighborhood?"

"Do you know what I see when I look at you Eggsy?"

Eggsy braced himself, wondering if it would be more criticism, or worse, some crude come on.

"Oh, for god's sake," Harry bit out, seeing Eggsy's expression, "I see a young man I've grown to admire. A young man who is loyal. Who can do as he is asked, and who cares about people, even strangers who need his help."

"Look, half of that - helping you an' all - was about getting away from that guy who bought me from Dean," Eggsy confessed.

"And what part of that required you to save me from pursuit? Or stay up all night watching over me?"

"Not all night," Eggsy muttered, blushing as he remembered falling asleep on Harry's arm. 

"No," Harry smiled warmly, "Not all night."

"Ugh, fine. Yeah, I guess. I'll marry you."

"Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but I'll take it. After all, we have an appointment at the courthouse at 2."

♠

Harry, who was turning out to be a bit of a control freak, had arranged everything except the witnesses, probably because he already had two other spouses in America and France, or a warrant for his arrest in Istanbul, Eggsy thought darkly. But his mum, and his buddies were glad enough to come, his mum with audible relief on the phone, and Jamal and Ryan with barely suppressed mirth.

And now Eggsy's mum was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, even though the whole process was dry as fuck.

"Your mating bond should be formed within the first 24-hours in order for the license to be official." The officient droned, "If you do not or cannot form a bond within this period, the license is considered void. If you form a bond, but do not or cannot consummate the bond, you will be eligible for an annulment. Fully consummated bonded marriages can otherwise only be dissolved through divorce, and severing. Please sign at the X to indicate that you understand these conditions."

Really fucking romantic stuff, right there.

Harry signed, and then Eggsy signed, and then there were some more things for Jamal and Ryan to sign, as witnesses, and then Harry gave Eggsy the most perfunctory kiss possible, at the lady's prompting, like Eggsy's lips were one more form to initial.

Jamal threw a packet of rice at Eggsy, because he was an asshole, and he cackled as Eggsy went on his hands and knees to pick up the grains, while Harry looked on in bemusement. Clearly neither of them cared that birds might eat it and explode.

"Pigeons are vermin, cuz, just leave it," Ryan said, shaking his head, "he goes daft over animals and kids, like a bleeding Disney princess," he told Harry, "but he ain't like his mum. He'll leave or worse if you beat on 'im, an' if we hear you're treating him bad, we'll come down on you with shovels, get me?"

Harry didn't ask what two omegas could do against an alpha, just nodded solemnly, and agreed, "I would never hurt Eggsy, I promise you."

His eyes were so fucking sincere, taking Eggsy's friends dumb threats seriously that Eggsy went all soft and fond in response. 

Michelle, coming back from the loo with Daisy on her hip took one look at whatever face Eggsy was making, and sighed, "Oh Eggsy."

♠

Once they were alone again at Harry's - Harry's and Eggsy's now - which was weird as hell to think about, Eggsy thought they'd move immediately on to the 'bond consummation' part of the wedding. Instead, Harry just brought in the duffel bag of Eggsy's things Michelle had brought with her, and started to make tea. 

"Any thoughts on what you'd like to eat?" Harry called over the whistling kettle.

"Are you making that brand from yesterday?" Eggsy asked making a face.

"What’s wrong with it?"

"Nothing!" Eggsy called back, "What about curry?"

"Takeaway?"

"Well, yeah."

Harry pulled open a drawer full of menus, and gestured an invitation for Eggsy to pick from the selection. There were more than a few.

"Do you actually know how to cook?" Eggsy asked, eyeing the menus askance.

"Oh, certainly," Harry said, opening a cabinet, in which rested rows of thick and well worn cookbooks, "Mind you, I don't always have time to, but there's a certain satisfaction in a well-crafted meal, don't you think?"

"Er, yeah," said Eggsy. He was a decent cook, but he was happy enough with an unsinged omelet. He wasn’t exactly snapping pics of his gourmet meals for instagram.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I suppose you can always help with the dishes."

"Oi, I can cook! Just not the fancy stuff you're probably used to," Eggsy said.

"Eggsy, I'm sure I'd love anything you made," Harry said, and then paused, "but for now, let's stick with that curry you suggested."

After dinner, when Eggsy had washed, and Harry had dried, Eggsy brought up the elephant in the room.

"Harry… we gonna...?" Eggsy trailed off.

Harry looked at him, almost uneasily, his eyes going from Eggsy's, to his neck, to the wallpaper, "Ah, yes. We ought to take care of that.

"Come here," Harry said, gesturing to the space next to him, "closer still, please," and pulled Eggsy in tight once he was in reach. 

He rested his hands on Eggsy's shoulders, stroking up and down quickly, like he was soothing a startled animal, and gave him a piercing look. "Are you quite sure?"

"Already said 'I do,' didn't I?" Eggsy prodded.

"Very well."

Harry placed his mouth cautiously on Eggsy's neck, like an apology, before his teeth sank in sharp, and quick, till the blood swelled up remorselessly. Eggsy's knees buckled, because he'd been prepared for pain, but this was bone deep pleasure that made him whine in his throat, high and needy, pressing into towards Harry so his teeth would bite deeper.

And then Harry was stepping back, and wiping his mouth delicately, before smiling politely, like he hadn't just lit up Eggsy's blood with fucking fireworks, like moving away wasn't like pulling against an already stretched taut rubber band, growing taut with each inch.

"Well, it's been a long day. Care to go to bed now?"

"Yes, Harry," Eggsy breathed. 

Eggsy almost trod on Harry's heels, eagerly following him up the stairs, but then Harry stopped outside his room, and turned to Eggsy with a frown, "You know, just because we've married, I don't expect you to share a room with me. The guest bedroom is yours, if you wish."

"Are you taking the piss?" Eggsy said, "Of course we're sharing a bed an all, ain't we?"

"You were in a difficult position, Eggsy," Harry said, placing his hands on Eggsy's shoulders. The gesture was comforting, but also allowed him to stop Eggsy from pressing forward and stealing into Harry's space. This close, he could smell the coppery tang of the mating bite, mixed with Harry's own tea and leather scent, and he wanted to breathe in more of it. Tuck his face up into Harry's neck and just inhale. 

"Eggsy, dear, focus please," Harry said, "I don't intend to take advantage of you, and the situation I've placed us in."

"I placed us there, too, didn't I?" More so than Harry, though Eggsy didn’t plan on pointing it out.

"I hardly think you were considering all the repercussions, Eggsy."

"Yeah, and you were concussed!"

"The point is, my dear, I hardly want to be the ogre dragging you to bed."

Stung by Harry's reluctance, Eggsy squared his shoulders, and pushed past him into the master bedroom, "Fine," he said, "I'll drag myself, then."

Harry's bed was huge. Angrily tucked up onto the neglected right side, far from the door, there was a wide and cold gap of two feet between him and Harry. Eggsy wasn't going to get any accidental spooning, let alone a wedding night.

♠ ♠

Breakfast the next morning wasn't awkward, even when Harry picked the burnt parts off his omelet - Eggsy had been distracted, sue him - they had settled into an easy silence over the table, with Harry paging steadily through the pink sheets of the Financial Times, and Eggsy texting Jamal, who was bitching about having the early shift at the shop.

And then Harry stood up, and said, "Time for me to go into work, dear, I should be back later this evening."

Eggsy hadn't thought about the fact that Harry was already showered and in a suit - Harry was _always_ in suits. Eggsy had been more surprised that his pajamas didn’t come with a tie. 

But. "You ain't telling me you have an actual day job?"

Harry blinked at him, eyes wide behind his thick rimmed glasses, "What on earth did you think I do?"

Eggsy buttoned his lips before he could volunteer what he'd thought - that the kind of guy who could afford a luxury sports car Eggsy hadn't seen since, bummed around with arms dealers in East End pubs, and who got concussions and vehicular pursuit in bad neighborhoods screamed 'legitimate 9 to 5 business man.'

 

Harry sighed, "I'm not involved in anything as sordid as your step father, Eggsy, I promise you. I work at Kingsman Tailors in Saville Row."

"A… tailor…" Eggsy said, drawing out the word, trying to match that in his head  
with the picture he had of Harry, "I suppose that's why your suits are all so nice?"

"Quite!" Harry said, pleased. "I'll have to bring you around the shop sometime."

"Yeah, right - what the hell's a _Saville Row_ tailor doing meeting an arms dealer in the Black Prince?"

"Arms dealer?" Harry asked, blinking innocently, 

"Adrian Morgan?"

"He wanted a bespoke suit. Good heavens, are you sure he's an arms dealer?"

Eggsy sighed. "Fine, don't tell me. You better go or you'll be late."

Harry looked at his watch, "You're right, darling, I must run," dapper and unruffled as ever, Eggsy's doubt rolling off him like water from the umbrella he'd tucked under his arm.

"Sure, yeah - uh, have a nice day?"

Harry dropped an unexpected kiss on Eggsy's forehead, and swept out the door.  
Eggsy shook his head, "Like hell he's a fucking tailor," he told himself.

♠

Of course, despite Eggsy's expectation that he'd get more insight into Harry's true business now that they were married, they settled into an uneventful domesticity fairly quickly. Harry would leave for work at the same time every morning - though when he could be expected back varied wildly - and Eggsy spent most of his spare time reading through Harry's eclectic collection of thrillers, mystery novels, history, and philosophy texts. 

Harry didn't protest Eggsy taking up room in his bed, either, but he kept rigidly to his own side. During the evenings, though, he was warm enough, always with a reassuring hand on Eggsy's shoulders, or a fond smile. Like he was Eggsy's indulgent uncle, and not his smoking hot husband. Unbelievable.

It took a few weeks of carefully prepared dinners, heavily interspersed with takeaway, before Eggsy realized that Harry could make a handful of dishes exquisitely well, but beyond that, he was essentially useless in the kitchen. This despite the gleaming rows of copper bottomed pans hanging in the kitchen, endless mechanical gadgets tucked away in various nooks, and overflowing shelves of thick glossy cookbooks.

"Who can't make scrambled eggs?" He asked, whisking furiously at their second batch, after Harry had ruined the first by pouring in too much milk, "who can poach eggs, but not scramble?"

"I like poached eggs, so I learned how to make them," Harry explained from the dining room. Eggsy had banished him there after the milk, as he had a tendency towards unwanted and stealthy 'assistance,' despite having no fucking clue what he was doing. He hadn't taken his apron off though, and was leaning in through the serving hatch, eyeing Eggsy's whisking like he was unlocking nuclear fucking secrets with his wrist action.

"What, did you take a class on how to make your favorites, and just completely skip everything basic?"

"It seemed the most efficient way to go about things, yes. Can't you just mix the the eggs in the pan?"

"Sure, if you're lazy about dishes," Eggsy replied.

"Then couldn't you--"

"Oi, no backseat cooking," Eggsy scolded, guiltily thrilled that he could say something like that and Harry would subside, uncomplaining, instead of back-handing him. Wasn't so much that Eggsy had ever mistaken Dean's behavior for ok, or even normal, but it was strange living without the fear of it. Only the half remembered indulgent affection of his father giving him anything like a baseline of an idea for how a healthy marriage might be.

"No, I want to see what the 'right way' is, since you keep telling me all about how wrong I am."

The mail rattled in the slot, and Eggsy jumped on the distraction, "Can you get that? I'm expecting something."

"Oh?" Harry asked, but he dutifully wandered off. 

He hadn't come back by the time Eggsy was plating breakfast, and when Eggsy peered through the serving hatch, he could see Harry frowning at a letter.

"What is it?"

"When you said you were expecting something, it wasn't, by any chance, an invitation from your former fiance, was it?"

"No," Eggsy said, startled, his heart rabbiting a little as he thought of Adrian knowing where he lived.

"He's inviting us to dinner, at his house - thankfully not anywhere near that wretched pub - oh, and he wants to resume our business arrangements, excellent."

"Harry, I don't think you should accept. Adrian is..." Creepy, he wanted to say. But Harry wasn't the sort to back down in the face of an amorphous feeling, was he? "... a sore loser. I don't think he really wants to mend fences."

"Nonsense. He's a businessman, and he wants to resume our negotiations. Perhaps he may have initially had some hard feelings, but clearly he's willing to let that go."

"Harry..."

"Plus, it will be an excellent chance for you to try out the suit I brought home for you."

♠

"It would fit better if you'd come into the shop," Harry said wistfully, when Eggsy finally tugged on the damn suit, at the last minute before Harry dragged them off to meet their doom over dinner.

"I told you, I don't need a suit."

"Every gentleman needs a suit, darling, and here you are, with just an occasion for one." 

"You can bury me in it, too then."

Against all expectations, however, the dinner went well, all jovial words, and dark looks kept covert. Until, of course, it didn't. 

Harry - blithely oblivious to the fact that Eggsy would have preferred to be abandoned in the Sahara without water than at the dining table with Adrian - begged to be excused to use the loo.

He was gone ten seconds before Adrian was up, and around Eggsy's side of the table, "I think we really ought to talk about where we left things, my dear boy."

Eggsy scrambled up out of his chair and eased away, "Look, I'm sorry if I hurt you, but--"

Adrian laughed. "Hurt me?"

"Right. No. 'Course not, but--"

"You're not that special. I'll find another one like you quickly enough. However, if I'd known you were easy, I would've taken you when I had the chance. So I feel I'm owed a taste now," Adrian explained, like this all was completely obvious, and not at all sick.

How long could Harry be gone for? Eggsy stalled, desperately. "Maybe you should have asked me, then, instead of going through my stepdad, cause how I'm looking at it, _I_ don't owe you anything.

"I just want to get what I'm owed," he said, and put his hand on Eggsy's thigh. So much for stalling.

 

When Eggsy burst out into the hall, he nearly ran into Harry, who was practically flying down the stairs, and only stopping by grabbing onto Harry's arms. It worked out, though, because he still has enough momentum to begin towing Harry towards the exit, without explaining.

"What about Mr. Morgan?" Harry asked, though he's going along with Eggsy quickly enough, his eyes darting around the hall warily.

"Punched him in the face, c'mon, we gotta go."

At this, Harry stopped, because he was a contradictory bastard, and gave Eggsy a tight, assessing look.

"Hey, I'm sorry I fucked up your business deal or whatever, but I ain't bending over for that arsehole just so you can sell a pair of trousers. If that's how you thought this was going to go--"

"Eggsy, I'm concerned about you, not Mr. Morgan. If he hurt you…"

"Mostly," Adrian said, strolling out of the dining room, "it was the other way around." Blood was pooling beneath his nostrils, and dotting the handkerchief clenched in one tight fist.

"For good reason, Mr. Morgan. You realize, of course, that nowhere in any recognized rules of etiquette does it allow for a host to assault guests in his own home?"

"I'm not exactly the type to let etiquette come between me and what was supposed to be mine, Mr. Hart," Adrian said, gesturing at Eggsy.

His serving staff, who Eggsy had previously noted were burlier than than your average set of butlers, silently collected around Adrian.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's so. That little tart belonged to _me_."

"I have a saying," Harry began, "Manners maketh man," Harry punctuated each word with a step toward Adrian, "and calling my husband a tart is bad fucking manners." 

Then they both exploded into action. Eggsy leapt back to give Harry room, as he took out the footmen cum thugs with quick, brutal precision, but he cried out when he saw that Adrian had a gun.

"Umbrella please, Eggsy," Harry said, calmly.

"What?" Adrian asked, taken aback.

Eggsy reached to grab the umbrella from the holder, and tossed it to Harry, easily as any morning he'd handed it to Harry on his way out the door. It had never occurred to Eggsy that it was solid enough to beat someone about the head with, but Harry was demonstrating that it was, with a thoroughness Eggsy appreciated.

 

Once everyone was groaning on the parquet floor, Harry hustled Eggsy to the car with a hand on the small of his back.

"I told you this was a terrible idea."

"Yes, dear," Harry sighed in agreement.

♠

Later, once Harry had assiduously bundled Eggsy into a blanket on the sofa, as if Eggsy was a delicate flower in shock (he wasn't), and fixed him tea, Eggsy pinned him with a pointed look and asked, "are we going to talk about how you took out all those men with your umbrella?"

"I'd rather not," Harry temporized, suddenly extremely preoccupied with the task of pouring milk.

"Uh huh. You at least get what you went there for?"

Harry looked up abruptly. None of the milk spilled, but it was a close thing, "Eggsy--"

"Tell me you left me alone with that man for a good reason, yeah? Tell me it was fucking worth it."

Harry's lips thinned, and he glanced down at his tea again, "Darling, I can't begin to apologize enough for--"

"Do not call me 'darling' right now," Eggsy said, mimicking Harry’s accent back at him.

"What? Eggsy, da-- Eggsy, if you mind me calling you that, you ought to have said something sooner."

"It's not…" Eggsy stood, struggling out of the blankets. He needed to move. 

Harry stood too, setting down his tea. He took an aborted step towards Eggsy, and then said, voice helpless, "What's wrong? What is it?"

"I hate Adrian. Do you know how he treated me? You saw him. You saw us in the Black Prince. I wanted to get away from him, _so badly_. Do you get that?"

"He did seem rather insensitive," Harry admitted.

Eggsy gave him an unimpressed look.

"Yes, I could tell you didn't like him," Harry continued with more honesty.

"'Didn't like?' do you know what could have happened to me, getting into a strange alpha's car? Hadn't been you, I coulda been taken, sold, killed, maybe worse."

"It was quite reckless, obviously, but I like to think that you trusted me, even then," Harry said softly.

"Trusted you?" Eggsy scoffed, "More like, I had nothing to lose, you get me?"

"That's a bit--"

"What? Dramatic? He doesn't even see omegas as _people_ , Harry. Do you even know what it's like to be treated like a _thing_?"

Harry put his palm over his face, and breathed out hard. When he lowered it again to face Eggsy, his eyes were steady when he said, "You're right. I did suspect the extent to which you wanted to be rid of him. I knew you hated him, and I had a good idea as to why."

"So tell me it was worth leaving me alone with him."

Harry didn't say anything.

Eggsy turned to walk out of the room, stung, tears just beginning to prick at his eyes, because Harry… Harry had used him too, now. And Eggsy could take that, maybe, had taken it from his mom, Dean, the lads, once or twice, but he wasn't going to pretend like he didn't have a right to know _why_.

Harry's voice was thick, when it came, "Yes, Eggsy. Yes, it was worth it. And he won't be in a position to bother you again."

Eggsy spun on his heel, "yeah?"

Harry nodded.

Eggsy blew out a breath, feeling his shoulders inch down. Harry's eyes were soft and fond as always, and Eggsy could feel himself relenting.

"Sleep on the couch," Eggsy ordered, his voice wavering only a little.

Harry pouted. Actually pouted, and he called Eggsy dramatic.

"Perhaps the guest room--"

"Couch!" Eggsy pointed to it, "Couch, or you'll never learn."

"Yes, da-- yes, Eggsy," Harry sighed. 

"Just for tonight, yeah?"

Harry smiled at him at little, "alright."

♠

It was awkward between them for a few days after, even once Harry rejoined Eggsy in the master bed. It was only after another fight, over the marginally less serious topic of cake, that they went back to something like normal again.

Well, once Harry had brought home a lavishly decorated cake with about nine different endearments scrawled across it, in twee, fancy script, and Eggsy finally explained that he didn't actually hate being called 'darling.'

"I don't understand," Harry said helplessly, "you very specifically asked me--"

"We were having a fight about me not bein' treated like a person, I wanted you to say my name, get me? It wasn't an eternal fucking ban, you lunatic."

"Oh," Harry said, "I thought..."

"I really hope you finish that sentence, because I never understand what the hell it is you're thinking."

"That's not true. You always--"

"Knowing when you'll want tea does not count!"

"You even knew what I was going to say!" Harry threw up his hands.

"That doesn't--"

"--count, yes, I see." Harry fiddled with his glasses, before he continued, "I thought it meant you didn't want me being… affectionate, I suppose. Or that I was pretending, but Eggsy, I really am--"

"--fond of me, right?" Eggsy tried to keep his face and voice blank. It wasn't Harry's fault that Eggsy wanted more than fondness from him, no matter how much he tried to suppress it. When Eggsy didn't want to strangle him for being impossible, or crazy, at any rate.

"Well, yes." Harry blinked at him.

"Fuck, how are we even going to eat this thing ourselves?" Eggsy said, eyeing the layers, and excessive bounty of marzipan flowers.

"We could invite over your friends, perhaps?"

"I'm not explaining this to anyone I know, are you taking the piss?" Eggsy waved to the swirling letters that read 'lambkin.'

Harry glanced at it, then winced, "you have an excellent point."

"I mean, we could have people over eventually. Maybe with a different cake, but..."

"No, you're quite right."

"Holidays are coming up, even, we should figure those out," Eggsy added. The first bits of Christmas decorations were appearing in stores, lights and holly wreaths popping up on the neighboring houses.

"I suppose you could go visit your mother?"

"Nah, you heard Dean, I'm not to come round there, and fat chance he'd let her and Daisy visit on Christmas or anything like that."

Harry looked startled, "He'd really prevent a simple visit?"

"Guys like him, everything's a power trip, nothing simple 'bout it."

"Perhaps I could--"

"Look, thanks, but the last thing I want for Christmas is a comatose husband, alright? Best stay out of it."

"If you're sure," Harry frowned doubtfully.

"What about you?"

"Well, you already know I think it's ridiculous."

"I meant," Eggsy bit out, "do you have family? Any Aunts I can scandalize by existing? Brothers to yell about the family line betting polluted?"

"I have a few cousins scattered around, but I'm sorry to disappoint you, none of them act like they've stepped out of an Austen novel. If you ever have reason to meet them, they'll be perfectly cordial."

"'Manners maketh man' the family motto?"

"Something like that, darling."

♠

Eggsy woke to a cold bed Christmas morning, which wasn't unusual anytime he had a bit of a lie in, but it was still disappointing. He tried to trap in the remaining warmth on his own side of the bed by snuggling deeper under the blankets, but was considering giving it up when he heard the front door open. 

Had Harry gone out to run an errand on Christmas morning? That was odd... but, then again, so was Harry. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a little girl giggling. Eggsy grabbed a dressing gown - it may have been Harry's, he didn't care - and practically flew down the stairs. In an instant, he had Daisy's tiny form cradled in his arms, and was twirling her about as she shrieked with laughter.

When he finally stilled to let Daisy press wet kisses into his cheek, he found Harry and his mum looking at him with identical expressions of bemused affection.

"Merry Christmas," Harry said. 

Eggsy couldn't say anything around the lump of emotion in his throat, so he buried his face in Daisy's curls, smiling.

 

"I can't believe you, you secretive bastard," Eggsy said later, handing Harry a plate to dry. 

"Was it a good surprise, at least?"

"Christmas morning! How the hell did you get Dean to go for that?"

"I have my ways," Harry said, with an enigmatic smile. 

Eggsy flicked suds at him.

♠

Eggsy woke, sweating, and thirsty, throwing off his blankets before he was even fully awake. The window was only two feet away, so he shoved it open and gulped down the icy cold air that rushed in, even as it stung his too warm cheeks. 

"Darling, is there a draft?" Harry called, "only the hall is fucking freezing all of a sudden."

Eggsy winced, and slid the window shut silently, easing the sash down. There was a sweet taste on the back of Eggsy's tongue, and the slightest hint of an ache at the back of his spine. And he still felt like he was roasting in just his pants. 

Because of course Eggsy was the special little snowflake that had to have his heat two weeks early almost every cycle.

They hadn't talked about heat yet, because, like every subject that even remotely pertained to sex or feelings, it was strictly off limits. If Eggsy tried to hint, Harry would retreat behind a wall of genteel politeness, and Eggsy couldn't really build up enough steam to penetrate it. 

And he'd been counting on having two weeks to broach the topic of his heat, because Harry seemed like exactly the sort of asshole who would absolutely refuse to fuck someone gone on heat brain, even if they were his legally wedded husband. It went hand-in-hand with the same kind of bullshit scruples that had left Eggsy hard up on his own wedding night. But Eggsy was not going through another heat alone, miserable, sore, and mindless with yearning. 

So, right. He would talk to Harry over breakfast. 

Only Harry was already at the door when he ran downstairs, his wool coat and scarf already on, in concession to a wintery chill Eggsy couldn't feel.

"Ah, Eggsy, there you are. I'm so sorry, but I was just called in early to work."

"Another tailoring emergency?"

"Yes, quite. There's a professor at Imperial College who urgently needs the patches sewed back on his blazer," Harry said.

"You're taking the piss, aren't you?" Eggsy said, stalking over to him.

Harry soothed him, his gloved hands rubbing Eggsy's shoulders lightly, "Yes, darling, I am being facetious."

"You'll be back tonight, yeah?"

"Maybe even early."

Eggsy leaned up--his hands on Harry's coat not fisted in the fabric, because if there was anything the man was fussier about than tea, it was his suits--but still clasping his shoulders tightly. Maybe he wouldn't have to tell him in words. If Harry kissed him, he would have to know. And then he'd take Eggsy, and bend him back… back over the table, maybe, or the sofa. And Eggsy wouldn't have to beg. He'd kiss him and then---

Harry bent down, and gently, sweetly, pressed a chaste kiss to Eggsy's forehead. And then he was twirling his umbrella, and sauntering out the door, a quick, "I'll be home by dinner, darling," trailing behind him.

"What the fuck." Eggsy told the empty hallway.

 

Eggsy took a very long, very cold shower, which cooled him down enough he could stand to have clothes on again, and tried to come up with another plan. His mom had always used food to soften Dean up for bad news - it got a bit obvious, over time, until a nice roast was treated with suspicion, but even then Dean had still seemed to appreciate the comfort of it.

And fuck, Eggsy couldn't really compare his marriage to his mother's at all, but it was worth a shot, right? And hopefully 'surprise sex marathon' would be an easier sell than 'your stepson crashed the car (again)'."

On regular work days, which were few and far enough between to hardly deserve the term, Harry got home around 6. So 'early, maybe' meant... 4? Or 5? Harry had some fat and glossy cookbooks in the kitchen, but Eggsy had looked at them before. They tended to use some secret language that was half shorthand, half assumption that you had thousands of dollars worth of exotic spices on hand, and possessed a solid French vocabulary. So he turned to the internet to find a recipe involving aubergines that looked both doable and interesting enough to top the pasta he'd already planned. Plus, aubergines were an aphrodisiac, weren't they?

A trip to the store, and some frantic hours in the kitchen later, the recipe seemed a bit less doable. When 5 rolled around, and Harry hadn't come home, Eggsy was profoundly relieved, since it gave him time to fix the disaster on the stove that was wilted and rubbery aubergines. But when it turned 6, and he had a decent(ish) dish cooling on the table, Eggsy was sweaty and irritable. And by 7, with no message, and no Harry, Eggsy had just shoved the whole mess into the fridge and taken his frustration up for a cold bath.

He called once, and left a message. Hopefully it was coherent, but Eggsy was tottering on the precipice of his heat at that point, and honestly, it could have been anything from porno moaning to an angry tirade. Harry didn't answer, obviously, and Eggsy went back and forth between anxiety and anger until he couldn't feel anything at all, except a more primal urge to smell Harry's pillow and rut against their sheets. He didn't fight it.

♠

For a day, Eggsy thought Harry might have come home after all, during the period when he wasn't lucid. He could see Harry deciding that the gentlemanly course of action would be to get a hotel room and leave Eggsy to it. In his fevered daydreams, it was alluring to think of Harry doing something a little different, more intimate... but they didn't exactly have a real marriage, did they? 

So, no. No sweet, solicitous hands on his skin, clean wet towels wiping away the sweat or semen. No bites of food or drink pressed to his lips. Instead, Eggsy got to rub off on increasingly objectionable sheets, and eat away at the disastrous aubergine thing, which he was beginning to hate. And on the fourth day, when he was alert enough to put the sheets in the wash, and toss the remaining pasta, he thought Harry might still be giving him space.

But day five? That wasn't Harry. Not with no text or call, or nothing. And it definitely didn't make sense when he called into the shop, and the obnoxiously posh-sounding tailor on the other end told him Harry had been called away on an emergency business trip, and he 'wasn't at liberty to give out any additional personal information, _good day sir_ ,' like Eggsy was some kind of impudent stalker. 

Something wasn't right. But Eggsy wasn't about to go to the cops, because if it was Harry's tailors all up in some shady-as-fuck business, with arms dealers, _or_ university professors, it would be Harry in trouble if Eggsy ratted 'em out. He'd never given anyone up to the police, he was hardly going to start with his husband.

Then Eggsy thought about the medallion, tucked up safely in a trinket box since his marriage. He'd thought about using the number on the back for a hundred small emergencies over the years, but he'd never imagined that when he did use it, he'd be using it for someone else. Weirdly, the call connected him to a customer service line, and the girl on the other end was about as helpful as the tailor shop. 

"Look, my husband's been gone for days, and his work won't tell me where, or anything. He could be dead, or run off, or - or kidnapped like Iggy bloody Azalea, and I don't have anyone else to turn to--"

"--sorry, wrong number--"

"Wait! Oxfords, not, uh, brogues?" He said, tentatively, quoting the half remembered pass phrase.

That apparently did the trick, but what the fuck kind of favor went through a secret customer service hotline, Eggsy wanted to know. And what the hell kind of thing had his dad been into?

He was half convinced nothing would come of it, but a few hours later, he was opening the front door to a bald man with thick spectacles and a tight frown, who looked Eggsy up and down with an incredulous expression.

"Well, are you going to keep me standing out here all day, or are you going to let me in?" He demanded irritably, words not softened despite the otherwise pleasant burr of a Scottish accent.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the favor you just called in, Unwin, but if you'd prefer I leave--"

"No! No, please, c'mon in," Eggsy said, stepping back to let the man in, "And it's, uh, Hart. Not Unwin. Not anymore."

"Christ," the man said, pinching the bridge of his nose above his glasses, "I was hoping I'd misheard that part of the message. And misread the marriage certificate."

"Oi, what's your problem?"

"My problem is that this shouldn't be my problem. This is Harry's mess to deal with, but… well," he sighed.

"You know Harry?" Eggsy asked, incredulous.

"Sadly, yes." 

"He's ok, ain't he? Not--" 

"No, not dead. He's… well, there's no good way to put this, but there was an accident, and he's in a coma," he looked into Eggsy's eyes, and then away again, "he should be fine. But I suppose he didn't update his medical contact forms, or employee files since your… marriage… because you weren't listed on them.

"In fact, he hadn't mentioned you to anyone, so you're a bit of a surprise."

"Wait," Eggsy cut in, "you saying you work with Harry? I thought you were here 'cause of my dad, or something."

The man stared at him, and then said, slowly, "What exactly has Harry told you about his work?"

"Jus' that tailor nonsense. Not that I'm an idiot, or anything, but that's where he wanted to leave it, yeah?"

"This _is_ a mess. Look, do you want to see Harry?"

"Fuck yes. Can I?"

"That depends, can you be discreet? 

"Yeah, I ain't grassed up anyone in my life."

"Hmm. And I don't need to tell you what'll happen if you decide this is a good time to start telling secrets?" The man warned, a dark look cutting over his glasses.

"Death, dismemberment, etc?"

"Exactly," he practically purred, "Now that that's settled, let's go."

"Wait, I don't even know who you are," Eggsy protested, even as he grabbed his jacket.

"Call me Merlin."

♠

So, it turned out the tailor shop had a secret bullet train under one of the fitting rooms, because why not? Merlin had ushered him past the sceptical looks of the shop attendant, and bundled him onto a train car with little fanfare.

"It can be a little overwhelming at first," Merlin told him, taking in Eggsy's wide eyed stare once the train doors had whooshed shut.

"Look, for what it's worth, I really appreciate that you ain't telling me he had to go on an emergency business trip to whatever part of outer Mongolia don't have phone reception so he could sell bespoke suits to guys in yurts." 

Merlin chuckled, "Tempting, but I doubt you'd buy it. I looked at your records, you know, and you've a lot of potential wasting away. Harry may shoot me for dragging you into this when he wakes up, but I'm not inclined to waste your time and talent. I could use you in my department, give you a reason to stay close to Harry."

Eggsy could feel himself beaming a little, at the praise. Merlin might give him shite work, so far as Eggsy knew, but at least he thought he could be useful somehow. 

"So how was my dad tied up in all of this?"

"Harry recruited him for an open position we had. And he performed extremely well in the trials, but… There was an accident. He never made full agent, but died saving our lives. We didn't forget it, Harry least of all," Merlin explained solemnly.

"Wait, _Harry_ did? So he knew all this time, and he never said--"

Merlin raised a hand, "Oh, no, no, no, NO. I am _not_ getting in the middle of whatever you have going with Harry, I value my life and my sanity far too much. He probably had some reason or another, but I hope I don't need to tell you that he isn't one to think in a straight line. You want to know what he he was thinking? You'll have to ask him."

"If I can ask him."

"He'll wake up, lad."

♠

Harry was so still in the infirmary bed, layered with wires, tubes, and blankets in a bed that would have otherwise look cozy. Eggsy couldn't read any of the machines in the room, but the steady beep of them seemed reassuring, only broken by the intermittent shouts of a group of men and women, glimpsed through a window, running across the lawn.

Eggsy slowly lowered himself down in the chair by the bed, taking Harry's hand, and leaning forward, just a little, until he could catch the scent of earl grey rising from Harry's skin. It was soured a bit, from illness, but familiar and strong, and Eggsy felt his shoulders unclench in relief.

Merlin coughed softly to catch his attention, "I need to go take care of this lot outside, but I'll be back in an hour or so. Please stay here, in the meantime, until I can get you proper credentials. The loo is through there," he pointed to a door Eggsy had mistaken for a closet.

"Thanks Merlin," Eggsy said.

"Talk to him. I don't know if he can hear you, but the doctors say it should do some good."

"What the fuck do I say?"

"Tell him he's a fucking asshole for me," Merlin said, as he slipped out the door.

 

Eggsy coughed uncomfortably and began, "Merlin said they didn't even know what happened, but that you really had gone out to see some professor. If you got taken out by some moldy academic, I will never let you forget it."

He paused, and peered more closely at Harry. A heavy scruff had already claimed his chin, and his hair was falling longer about his ears, but aside from that, and the hospital machines, there was no indication that he was anything other than healthy.

"You really asleep?"

The soft beeping of the monitors was the only response.

"I fucked four other alphas when you didn't show up for my heat," Eggsy waited a beat, "and then I threw out your butterfly collection."

Harry was still. Eggsy blew out a sigh, "ok, not faking it then. God damn it, Harry. What the hell am I supposed to do with you in this place? It's a full bloody estate filled with -- I don't even know what you are. Not bleeding _tailors_."

"The Kingsman did originate as tailors, actually." 

Eggsy whirled to see the man who had spoken - white haired, with those same fucking glasses, and a disapproving expression behind them. 

Merlin slipped in behind him, "I just ran into Arthur on my way out, Eggsy, sorry about that. Eggsy, this is Arthur, our director. Arthur, this is Harry's husband, Eggsy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my boy," Arthur said insincerely, "how long have you and Harry been…"

"Few months," Eggsy offered, "just a small ceremony."

"I see," Arthur said, sounding like he didn't, "and Merlin has shown you around?"

"Just how to get to the infirmary, so far," Merlin said, "that was Eggsy's priority, of course."

"I understand he may have been worried about his… husband," Arthur said, hesitating over the word, "but Merlin, we can't have civilians staying here." His voice was faultlessly even, but Eggsy could sense his distaste. 

Perhaps Merlin could too, because he frowned, very briefly, and then said, "actually, Eggsy has agreed to help me out with a few projects while he waits for Harry."

Arthur looked at him dubiously, and Eggsy nodded along, despite having no clue whether or not Merlin would set him to sweeping the floor or herding bloody geese.

"We're a family, as well as an organization, as Percival is so fond of saying, I'm sure we don't want to part Harry from his husband at such a delicate time."

"Of course not," Arthur said belatedly, "well, I'll leave you to it then."

"What's his problem?" Eggsy asked. He could feel his shoulders creeping up around his ears.

"His problem is not going to be your problem," Merlin bit out, looking frustrated, "he's just a bit set in his ways. Now, I know I haven't really given you any time with Harry, but you'd better come along with me for now. I need to monitor Gawain's mission, and we should at least make it seem like you're being useful."

"I can be useful," Eggsy protested. He followed Merlin out, but he couldn't help glancing back once at Harry, still so quiet and pale.

"I'm hoping you can at least make a decent cup of tea, unlike any of my other minions - but first thing first - what do you know about computers?" Merlin asked, as he walked briskly down the hall. It transitioned from grand and ornate to cool, bright, and high tech as they moved down into the lower part of the building.

"I know a little bit? Hacked my grades a couple times, not like the school security was hard to get through."

Merlin gave him a quelling stare over the rim of his glasses, "you know it's the education, and not the grades that are important. Taking shortcuts--"

"Oi, look at you, jumping to conclusions. I lowered 'em, alright? My stepdad would lose it when I came home with decent grades, thought I'd get above myself. 'Waste of time for an omega to study.'" Eggsy shrugged, "I didn't like his ideas for how I should spend my time."

"And you didn't get caught?"

"Nah. There was this real arsehole who was always after Ryan an' me, see? I boosted his grades while I was at it. They all knew he was too dumb to do it, but they figured he paid someone. Kept 'em busy, they never looked at me once."

"Clever," Merlin said dryly, putting his pad down on the largest desk in the room, with at least five monitors, "now pay attention, and use that brain of yours to learn something."

♠

By the end of the week, Merlin had him assisting with his batch of candidates for an open agent position.

"Most of them are useless," Merlin confided, as they gently brought cages full of puppies out to the lawn, "but at this early stage, it's hard to tell which ones might salvageable."

"Is that what the puppies are for?" Eggsy asked dubiously. He wasn't exactly in love with the idea of giving a bunch of a posh twats something as delicate and snuggly as a little puppy, "See if they can take care of it?"

"Mostly that, yes. How you treat something smaller than yourself, that absolutely depends on you, is a telling test of character." 

"What happens if they don't treat the dogs right?" Eggsy asked, carefully settling down a crate with a small black poodle, "Kill 'em?"

"Generally, no. But we don't let them keep the poor things when they're inevitably kicked out. Help me lift this one above the pug." 

"That's a bulldog, innit?"

"No, Eggsy."

Eggsy helped Merlin stack one crate a top of the other, then looked more closely at the tiny wrinkly faced dog, "they're supposed to be a bit useless, ain't they?"

"Hmm, perhaps. He might very well get left behind. We have a few more puppies than candidates. Still, one of them may surprise us."

A young Indian girl called Amrita, who was rocking a purple streak in her otherwise sensibly short cropped black hair, did look wistfully at the pug for a bit, but ended up making the - in Merlin's opinion - more practical selection of a border collie.

Eggsy let the little pug out of his cage after, fondling his soft little ears as the puppy shivered in his arms.

Merlin glanced at him over his clipboard, "if I let you keep him, am I going to regret it?"

Eggsy grinned, and cuddled the puppy close.

♠

As Eggsy continued to assist Merlin, he got to know more of the candidates, all of them frighteningly competent alphas. Charlie's group of public school twats was a nightmare, but Roxy and Amrita were all right, teaching him how to shoot, and some basic hand-to-hand in their limited off hours. Merlin would have killed him dead if he'd hinted anything about the tasks, but he helped them in a roundabout way, coaching them a little in free running, and stunt driving, and coaxing Roxy into dealing with her fear of heights before she had to jump out of a fucking helicopter.

Charlie tried to bitch about favoritism, but Merlin shut that down right quick.

"Knowing what allies to cultivate, and whom you may safely alienate is a useful skill in a Kingsman agent," he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

After which Charlie tried to bring him flowers and chocolate, which was a rather dire indication of how his NLP training was going.

Eggsy had peeked at that handbook a bit, to see if there was anything he could use on Harry. But snapped it shut when he realized Harry would recognize anything he tried.

♠

Eggsy had hoped that Charlie would drop the pathetic, half-hearted wooing, but a few weeks later, he was still trying his luck. 

Merlin had decided to use Eggsy as part of a test to gauge the candidates' tracking abilities, and basically sent him off into the woods after a brief overview on stealth and evasion. He'd splashed through streams, then clambered up into the trees, and moved through the canopy for a while - not nearly as easy as darting through the urban obstacles Eggsy was used to - but a few hours later, feet wet, and sore, Eggsy had plunked down in the first clearing he saw and pulled out the lunch Merlin had packed him. It was a pretty decent spread, so Eggsy was on his way to feeling charitable about the whole experience again, when Charlie had crashed his way into the clearing, stepping on a bunch of Eggsy's grapes in the process.

"I think you're meant to do that without shoes, bruv."

"What?" Charlie said absently, "oh, you have food, thank God, I'm positively starving."

He'd stolen Eggsy's cheese, and started going on about how Eggsy smelled like cinnamon and rising bread, and how hungry it had made him in a way that made Eggsy glad it was only the cheese he was grabbing.

"I should have stayed up in the branches," Eggsy commented wistfully.

"Wouldn't have helped, I saw you playing on the rock wall with the girls last week, knew you'd go up if you could," Charlie gloated.

"Were you spying on me?"

"Keep up, Eggsy, I am literally training to be a spy. What did you think I would do?" 

"I'm not a mark!"

Charlie winked at him over a biscuit, "today you were, though, weren't you? And I was the best at hunting you down."

"You want to get kicked out for violating Kingsman's harassment policy, keep talking," Amrita said from the treeline. Roxy was only a pace behind her - unlike Charlie, they asked before snagging some of the food.

"He's the only omega in Kingsman! A--My sponsor told me they've never even employed one before, so they're hardly going to have a policy about it."

Merlin's voice crackled up from their comms, "the assumption is, Mr. Hesketh, that a gentleman wouldn't need a policy to behave appropriately. Furthermore, I could, if I felt so moved, report your advances to Eggsy's husband, who happens to be one of our more violent agents.

Charlie dropped his biscuit, and stared at Eggsy. Then he reached over and pulled down Eggsy's collar so he could see the mating bite.

"Oi, watch it," Eggsy snapped, shoving him away.

"I can't believe it! You've let me flirt with you for weeks, and you're mated?"

"Is that what you call flirting?" Roxy scoffed.

"Come off it, I'm incredibly charming," Charlie told Roxy. Then he turned to Eggsy with an air of sudden realization, "Wait, an agent married _you_?" Charlie asked, "I would've thought that a bit beyond the reach of a pleb like you."

"You're right, you're such a charmer, Charlie," Amrita cut in, "now fuck off. And leave the brie, would you?"

Charlie, an inveterate suck up, had waited for Merlin to confirm that he'd won the challenge before he finally fucked off. He didn't leave the brie, either.

Even as Roxy and Amrita teased him about keeping his marriage a secret, Eggsy tried to ignore the creeping feeling that the other stuck-up arseholes in Kingsman might feel the same way about his marriage to Harry. Arthur definitely did, the way he was always looking down his nose when he ran into Eggsy in the infirmary. Not that he really cared about Arthur, but Harry might.

♠

Eggsy had pinned down Merlin, once all the candidates that were going to had found his clearing, and he'd been allowed to head back with Roxy and Amrita. "Do you think Harry didn't tell you he married me cuz he was ashamed of me?" Eggsy asked.

Merlin gave Eggsy a stern look and said, "Harry has a great many things to be ashamed of, I very much doubt he counts you among them."

"Then why?"

"I could make an educated guess, but I think you'd be better served asking him yourself when he wakes up. And," Merlin added pointedly, "I would strongly recommend not listening to anything that comes out of Mr. Hesketh and his ilk."

"Right," Eggsy sighed, "so you don't think our marriage is a little unequal?"

"I do," Merlin said, "so one of these days, when I inevitably murder your husband for being a reckless pain in my arse, I'll remind you that you can do better."

♠

When Harry woke up, he likely wasn't surprised to find himself in the Kingsman infirmary. He was startled to notice Eggsy there, asleep, and listing precariously between a straight backed chair and Harry's right shoulder, and a bonus tiny round lump of a pug by his knees, though he denied it later. 

"Eggsy? What on earth?" Harry said, struggling to right himself, as Eggsy himself jerked upright, and then pushed him back into his pillows. JB, startled at the sudden movement from his favorite warm, inert lump, started barking.

Eggsy shushed him and Harry both, and pushed the button for the nurse.

"Thank fuck you're awake," Eggsy said, "I actually missed you, you know. Even if you were four fucking months late for dinner."

"Four…?" Harry asked wide eyed.

Eggsy winced, "I'll let the doctors tell you the rest, right? Or Merlin, maybe. By the way, it turns out you're not really a tailor."

"Were you surprised?"

"Fuck no."

"I didn't think you would be, my dear." Harry's slow affectionate smile lit a spark in Eggsy's chest, warm and aching. He'd forgotten that Harry could do that to him, worn out from weeks of worry, and irritation. But this was Harry, his husband, not Harry the spy, an inscrutable secret. He must have built up an immunity to it before, this bone deep fondness for Harry's crinkling eyes, and stupidly fluffy hair. Whatever defense he'd had was gone now though.

Thankfully, the nurse showed up and shooed Eggsy and JB out into the hall, before he could embarrass himself. Except for the part where he practically tripped over Merlin.

"He's finally awake, then?" Merlin asked, after helping Eggsy right himself.

"Yeah," Eggsy said. He could feel a stupid grin stretching across his face.

"Excellent. Listen, I know you're probably eager to speak to him, but I need to talk to him about the case he was working on first. Plus, I would kill for some tea."

Eggsy actually had no idea what to say to Harry, so was happy for the excuse to buy some time, "Don't kill Harry, yeah? We just got him back. I'll grab you some tea."

"Good man," Merlin said, squeezing his shoulder, "and take that dog for a walk before he pees on my shoes again."

♠

Eggsy figured Merlin had wanted him to take his time, but he was still with Harry when Eggsy got back. He paused in the hall, trying to see if it was a good time to interrupt, when he realized they were talking about him.

"What would you have me do? We'd been alone in a hotel room all night!"

"And whose fault is that? Damn it, Harry, you can't keep going on missions unmonitored. We lost months of progress in this case waiting to find out what happened to you, and your coma was almost certainly exacerbated by having an untreated concussion!"

"Only a mild one, Merlin, don't be so dramatic," then Harry sighed, sounding defeated, "though I see your point. I'll get you the password for my home terminals."

"And you'll let me monitor your missions."

"And I'll let you monitor my missions, you nosy bastard."

"Good. Because if you marry the next urchin you've compromised by way of relying on them for back up support, it'll be considered bigamy."

"I didn't actually do anything untoward to Eggsy, you do realize this?"

"That's almost worse! I know what we both owe to Lee, but if you left his virtue intact, you had other options besides marriage. You could have taken him in as a ward, given him a dowry, arranged a match with someone suitable--"

"I am suitable," Harry interjected.

Merlin snorted, "Oh certainly. A man twice his age, in a dangerous profession?"

"And he'll be widowed and well off if anything happens to me!"

Merlin sighed, "Something better not happen to you for years yet. Look, as much as it pains me to say it, I like the cheeky little bugger. So make sure you do right by him, and don't leave him to moulder in your home like he's another Mr. Pickle."

Eggsy really didn't want to hear what Harry would say in response, so he shuffled his feet in the hall and then pushed the door open noisily. Harry was now in a dressing gown, and shaved, and he and Merlin were arguing over one of the tablets. A video projected on the screen was paused to show some news piece or other.

"Oh, is that Richmond Valentine?" Eggsy asked, desperate to introduce a neutral topic, "Is that the news about his free sim card plan? That man's a genius."

♠

"I don't need a partner," Harry informed Merlin with a haughty air of wounded dignity, "this mission doesn't require any technological intervention, either, it's simple recon."

"Harry, we've already discussed this. The last 'simple recon' mission you went on left you in a coma--"

"That was an isolated--"

"--and left me without any useful intel to work with in the meantime." Merlin finished, eyes glittering dangerously.

Harry paused. "I told you I could give you access to the feed," he said carefully.

"And what if we need to take immediate action on something you uncover?"

"Very well, Eggsy can monitor me."

"That's not--"

"You've been training him, haven't you?" Harry asked, giving Merlin a significant look.

"Well, yes," Merlin admitted, "but--"

"And you intended him to work in your department, right?"

"What? Really?" Eggsy asked.

"Actually, no, I have a better idea," Merlin said, crossing his arms, "your cover would sell much better if you had a nice, harmless omega spouse at your side."

Harry paused, and looked thoughtful, "that might work."

"Do I get a say in this?" Eggsy asked, "because the last time we went to a dinner party with someone you were investigating-" he held up his hand, "yeah, figured that one out, no thanks to you--"

"Of course you get a say, darling. But, Eggsy, this will be much safer, there's no reason to think Valentine would penetrate our cover, and as far as I know, you've never been engaged to him, so--"

"I'm sorry, what happened 'last time?'" Merlin asked.

"The Morgan case," Harry said flatly.

"The case that nearly blew up in your face?" Merlin looked entirely unimpressed, "That's the case you chose to involve your spouse in. Un-fucking-believable."

"To be fair, I was kinda already involved on the account of him being my fiance when I met Harry." Eggsy offered, "Not that I wanted to sit down and have dinner with him after we broke up."

"Yes, that was my bad." Harry added dryly.

Merlin pinched his nose, and sighed. "Of course it was."

"If I'm being brought in, I want to know everything this time, get me?"

♠

Turns 'everything,' so far, was just the failed rescue of a university professor (who had turned a clever metaphor about fevers into a crazy paranoid conspiracy about climate change), a rash of missing persons cases, and the aforementioned Richmond Valentine connection.

"It feels weird, you driving," Eggsy told Harry in the car.

"I'm hoping it helps you adjust to the role of my dutiful and meek spouse," Harry replied, "even if I don't handle this car nearly as well as you, darling."

Eggsy patted the dash fondly, then said, "speaking of handling, do you know how many hours of etiquette lessons Merlin put me through just so I could wield my forks - plural, by the way, which is ridiculous when you think of all the washing up after - and ask for the butter to be passed with the right accent?"

"Learning to adapt to one's environment is always a useful skill, especially in Kingsman," Harry said, gone didactic again.

"How come you ain't never made me learn to act more posh and all, then?"

"I don't want to change you, or have you pretend to be anything you're not. You didn't have a reason to do so before, and now that you do - and you've learned it. I think it's fairly simple."

Eggsy didn't reply, but he could feel the tension in his shoulders easing at Harry's response. They weren't the words of someone who was ashamed for Eggsy to meet his friends or family. Not that Eggsy would have agreed if Harry had tried to turn him into Eliza Doolittle, but he had wondered, a little, at the fact that Harry hadn't tried.

 

As it turned out, Merlin's etiquette lessons were entirely wasted, since, once they were seated, Valentine's eerie, blade-footed omega assistant had offered him a tray full of McDonald's burgers, complete with wrappers. That eccentricity was the only disarming part of the evening, in the way that the canceled gala wasn't. And Harry only exacerbated the issue by trading loaded barbs with Valentine about James Bond. Eggsy tried to subtly kick Harry's ankle, but only managed to stub his toe on the solid leg of the table.

 

"What the hell was that?" He hissed to Harry when they finally left, "you were practically taunting him, it was the least subtle thing I've ever seen."

"I suspected he'd seen through our cover before we even arrived. Your presence may have disarmed him for a moment, but he certainly wasn't going to let us investigate the house properly."

"Then why all the sinister hinting? Why not just-" Eggsy mimed shooting a gun.

"He was fishing for information. He may know I'm a spy, but he won't know which agency I work for."

"I hope you're right," Eggsy said, "but I think you'd better let me drive home just to be safe."

♠

The thing is, it was kind of amazing to work with Harry, it was so far outside the realm of what he'd ever dreamed he could have in a relationship with an alpha. Maybe Harry didn't love him, or anything like that, but mutual respect is something Eggsy can definitely handle. 

Except the fact that he's not an agent is brought home to him as he was helping Amrita up from the false bottomed train tracks.

"Congratulations, Miss Abbott, well done," Harry said, his voice warm, and proud.  
She smiles back at Harry, and - oh. Harry must be her sponsor. He hadn’t known that. 

Eggsy couldn't really blame him for not mentioning it, with the whole secret identity/coma thing in the way, but he still felt a cold ball of ice, forming in his stomach, that these two people he cared about were connected in a way he just… wasn't.

He looked on silently as they spoke together, a little mutual admiration society.

♠

Eggsy was still feeling a little numb as Amrita came home with them, to spend 24 hours with her mentor. 

Bo and J.B. settled down together on J.B.'s squashy and fortuitously overlarge dog bed, and Harry ushered them both into his study.

"What are all these?" Amrita asked, one finger tracing the frame around 'The Judge and the Rent Boy.'"

Harry had told Eggsy the articles were a reminder of the 'sensationalist nature of the news media,' but now he explained that each article represented a successful mission. 

"Because it's the nature of Kingsman that our achievements remain secret. A gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times: when he's born, when he marries, and when he dies. And we are, first and foremost, gentlemen," he said.

Amrita gave him an unimpressed look.

"Gentlewomen, too, of course."

Eggsy was fairly sure their marriage hadn't been listed in the paper.

"I'll just make dinner, and leave you to it, yeah?" Eggsy said, easing his way out of the room. 

In a fit of perversity, he made the aubergine dish again. It came out perfectly this time, which was unfortunate, since Harry's sincere praise of it froze out the last of his appetite.

Amrita frowned at him over her own loaded fork, "All right, Eggsy?"

"I think I just did too much snacking on the ingredients as I cooked, not really hungry. So, what happens if Roxy an' Amrita both pass the final test tomorrow?" He asked, changing the subject.

"If there's a clear difference in scores, that can be a deciding factor."

"They're pretty much tied," Eggsy said.

"Roxy may be slightly higher," Amrita said, biting her lip.

"True. In your case, we'd likely start you both on missions, and see how it goes."

"Has that happened before? With two candidates progressing to actual missions?" Amrita asked curiously.

"Ah, yes," Harry said hesitantly, "In fact, it happened the last time we replaced Lancelot," he gave Eggsy an apologetic look, "Seventeen years ago."

"My dad?" 

"Yes, Eggsy he was one of two final candidates when he died."

"So, because that worked out so well, you're gonna try it again if the girls both pass tomorrow?" Eggsy pushed away his food, heedless of how it crashed past the elaborate rows of forks, almost knocking over his glass, "just send 'em out till one of them dies?"

"Eggsy, you know Kingsman would never do that, not intentionally, don't you?" Amrita said, her voice soothing, "Haven't you noticed all the fake-outs? They didn't even run over that weasel, Charlie, on the train tracks. And I checked my 'shute after the dive, and there wasn't anything wrong with it. I'm not even sure Amelia could have drowned - not past the point of resuscitation in our first trial - I mean, you weren't there for that one, but we weren't completely submerged for more than two minutes..." she trailed off looking at Harry.

Finally he nodded, "Just so. Amelia is back to working tech for our German division. Kingsman places a high value on every life,"Harry said, his eyes earnest.

"Right," Eggsy said, and then set his mouth into a neutral line, so he wouldn't say anything else.

 

The next afternoon, Amrita pulled Eggsy aside before she had to leave for her final test.

"Eggsy, are you--"

"I'm fine," Eggsy said.

Amrita smacked his arm, hard, "like hell you are. We're friends, aren't we? I can tell you're worried about me and Roxy, but if there's more, if I've done something to upset you…"

"Yeah, you just gave me a bruise," Eggsy rubbed his arm. It was a little sore, actually, Amrita didn't get to be a top candidate by pulling her punches.

"You little shit. _Talk_ to me," she whispered pleadingly.

"It's fi--"

"Talk to me, or I'll send Roxy after you."

Eggsy winced. Roxy's particular brand of concern frequently involved a lot of high-speed yelling. 

"How did you meet Harry?"

"He was at my graduation, when I got my doctoral degree," she replied, bemused, "he said he liked my thesis, and looked forward to watching my future progress. I didn't think much of it, until he turned up a few months ago to recruit me. Why?"

"He never told me about Kingsman, yeah?" Eggsy said, "Or about my dad. I just - I guess I wasn't to know why he'd trust you, and not…"

"Eggsy, as much as I want to be a Kingsman, I don't want to be alone in a bloody sea of old, rich, white, male alphas, full of themselves and their unacknowledged privilege. Do you know how much it's meant to me to have your support? And Roxy's? I'm fairly sure Galahad is the only agent who is pulling for me. Arthur gets this look--"

Eggsy mimicked the sour squinchy look, and Amrita laughed.

"That’s it. What I mean to say is, aside from Merlin, none of the other agents I've met have been particularly welcoming. Maybe he wanted to spare you from that. Not to mention the danger--"

"--another thing I would have liked to know about--"

"--and I'm sure he's made a few enemies. I don't agree with it, but I can see why he might have kept it from you. And I don't think it's because he doesn't trust you."

"Right."

Amrita rolled her eyes, "Come off it. You know how he feels about you."

Eggsy's eyebrows rose, "how he feels…?"

"Amrita," Harry called from the, "the car is here.You'll be late if you delay much longer."

Amrita blew out a sigh. "We're talking again, after I nail this last test," she said, squeezing him into a hug. "Come along, Bo!"

 

Harry was waiting for Eggsy in the hall, after she'd left. "Are we going to talk about why you're acting like a wet sodding blanket?"

"Unlike your dry toast act--"

"Eggsy," Harry interrupted flatly.

"You choose a stranger, tell them all about your fucking secrets, and me? You just leave me behind at home. Yeah, don't know why I'm fussed about that! 'Cause that's where you think I belong, innit?"

"Of course not, Eggsy, but the rule is strict, that Kingsman agents must always be alphas," Harry shrugged, obviously something he's never thought to question before. Just one more thing alphas got that everyone else didn't, "and…"

"Don't stop there. And _what_?"

"After what happened with my last candidate - with your father - Eggsy, I wanted you to be safe. To feel secure for once in your life."

"'Cause I feel so secure right now?"

"I had hoped so," Harry said, his eyes darkened.

"So's that why you married me, then? Make it up to my dad for getting him blown up by marrying his fuck-up of omega son, yeah? Keep 'im safe?"

"I don't deny that may have been part of it, Eggsy, but--"

"Tellin' me all that shite about my 'potential,' and then never telling anyone you even got married at all. Yeah, you're real proud. Bloody trophy husband material, I am!"

"That's quite enough, Eggsy. What did you want me to marry you for? I'm twice your age, or nearly, and while I may be better than some decrepit arms dealer, I'm hardly what a young omega's dreams are made of, as I'm well aware. Did you think I would marry you expecting some grand passion? For you to warm my bed until I died of old age in my sleep while you're still in your prime?"

"Yeah. Maybe you fucking did, alright? Cause you didn't have to marry me, like Merlin said, an' all."

"You little eavesdropper," Harry said, marveling.

"Yeah, I am. And you fucking want me, don't you?"

"Don't ask for more than you can handle, Unwin," Harry warned.

"My name's Hart, old man, and you made it that way. So fucking bring it," Eggsy put his hands on Harry's chest and pushed, because he couldn't pull, and followed Harry until he was backed into the wall, still looming, but boxed in by Eggsy's arms.

"Oh, really? Really? You want to see how much I want you, you little shit?" Harry asked, his voice low and dark, and then he was twisting Eggsy around, and pinning him face first to the wall. The line of his erection dug into the small of Eggsy's back. Then Harry was hitching him up, until it nestled in the crack of his arse. 

"Do you feel that?" Harry hissed. 

"Yeees," Eggsy whined, and arched his back to push into it. 

Harry stepped away, dropping Eggsy on his feet, before turning him again, "you get that when you've earned it." 

His mouth dropped to Eggsy's, and this kiss wasn't the polite brief peck of their wedding. Harry dove into it, open mouthed and searching. Eggsy gave himself up to it, grabbing Harry's biceps to go to his toes, and tilting his head so Harry could go deeper.

"Bring it," Eggsy repeated when they finally parted, his voice gone throaty and dark.

It felt, well, it felt amazing, but the chill air in the room suddenly felt like ice on all his abandoned naked skin, and he couldn't even really see Harry, down between his legs.

"Too far," Eggsy murmured, half into the pillow, feeling obscurely lonely, and very much like the self conscious virgin he'd forgotten he was when he'd been pushing Harry up against the wall.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, and looked up at him. Eggsy want sure what expression was on his face, but it made Harry say, "Perhaps we'll try that again another time then."

"Come here," Eggsy replied, voice not quite fretful. He couldn't think right now about whether there would be a next time, when this time was so hard won and uncertain.

Harry's thumb traced around his rim, nail lightly scratching the tightly furled pucker, but no closer. Not going in, like Eggsy needed. Eggsy whimpered and pressed up into the touch, but Harry locked his hand around the back of Eggsy's thigh. 

"Hold still."

Eggsy didn't listen, arching his back, bearing down on Harry's thumb to force it in, to push it deeper. He hissed at the feeling, of it. 

"More," he demanded. 

Harry complied. It hurt, at first, but then it felt amazing. Eggsy chased after his own pleasure at Harry's body until he cried out, completed. When Harry followed, Eggsy felt himself sink down into sleep, fully content. 

♠

"So in another world," Eggsy asked later, cuddled in Harry's arms, "would you have proposed me as a candidate?"

"I don't know," Harry said, his sigh warm as it ruffled Eggsy's hair, "in this one, the rule that all agents be alphas is quite firm, if completely biased."

"And I'm sure you never break the rules?" Eggsy scoffed. 

"Somewhat more importantly, I'm reasonably sure you'd fail the final test," Harry said, with a glance at where JB, once more top dog of the house, was snoring away on the foot of the bed, "they'll be asked to shoot their dogs."

"You're taking the piss," Eggsy said flatly, not arguing the point. He would more likely shoot anyone who _asked_ him to hurt a dog.

"It's a test of--"

"Bloody hell, is that why there's a stuffed fucking dog in the bathroom? Harry that's sick!"

"Oh for - the bullets are blanks, it's just a test!"

"To make sure you're recruiting proper sociopaths?"

Harry sighed heavily, "do you recall what Amrita said last night, about Amelia, the parachute, and the rest? That's the test. Trusting, by paying attention to the demonstrated example, that Kingsman values life."

"You didn't think I'd figure it out?" Eggsy said, turning his face into Harry's shoulder, a little stung. Not that he had figured it out, before Amrita had told him.

"I'm not sure it would matter if you had. We hadn't been married a month before I knew you'd never shoot a dog, even with blanks. Then there's your trust issues…" Harry trailed off, his voice sleepy.

Eggsy pinched his side.

"I didn't say they weren't understandable!" Harry added defensively, "Still, I was hoping you trusted me by now."

Eggsy squirmed, not answering. He trusted Harry... mostly. But baiting Harry into bed -brilliant or not - hadn't exactly resolved all his doubts.

"I'll earn it," Harry murmured, "even if it takes years. Would it help if we took a honeymoon? We could do this a few more times."

"It would help if you answered your phone," Eggsy said, arching his back, where the vibrating edge was digging in.

♠

Eggsy wasn't really a fan of getting left at home while Harry was on a mission, but at least Merlin's insistence that Harry allow some monitoring going forward meant Eggsy could watch as Harry arrived in Kansas, even if his line - unlike Merlin's - was muted. He almost regretted watching when he realized he'd have to listen to invective-filled sermon from a hate Church. The pastor was unrepentantly awful, and his audience was nearly as bad, and Eggsy almost - almost - didn't feel bad when the whole thing turned into a bloodbath and Harry started methodically killing everyone in the Church.

"Shit!" Eggsy exclaimed, reeling back from the desk.

"Indeed, it's a rather dramatic response," a voice said from the corner. 

Eggsy had a brief second to register the man's Kingsman suit and glasses, uniformly styled hair, with--a mask concealing the lower half of the his face, before he was out of his chair, and cutting over the desk to make it the door. 

Before he could make it, something sharp stung the back of his neck.

"Damn, they said you'd be quick," the man murmured, almost sounding impressed, "it's goodnight now, though."

Everything went dark.

♠

The last person Eggsy expected to let him out of his admittedly fancy cell was Arthur, especially since he still bore that dismayed expression, like Eggsy was a bit of spinach stuck in his teeth. 

He was all fake jovial politeness, though, as he led Eggsy down a grim looking metal and stone corridor, like something out of Batman.

"Would you care for a drink?" Arthur asked, already pouring some amber colored liquid out of a snooty crystal bottle, like Eggsy was born yesterday. 

Eggsy schooled his face to look like he had been, though, and agreed to the drink, because ten-to-one Arthur had never known an actual omega. It was so much easier to get one over on someone who thought you were some doe-eyed caricature. 

"It's an odd place we find ourselves, isn't it, Mr. Unwin?"

"I go by Mr. Hart, actually," Eggsy said, cradling the glass Arthur handled him.

"Ah, of course. Traditional, aren't you?" Arthur said, in an approving way that made Eggsy want to run out to the courthouse and change his name back, "I don't doubt there are many things we wouldn't agree on, my lad, but Harry isn't one of them, I think. You see, I do care for Harry, but he can be… well, a little obstinate on some points.

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'the good of the many outweigh the needs of the few?'"

"You mean like Machiavelli's 'the ends justify the means?'"

Arthur looked delighted, "you aren't quite as uneducated as you seem, are you?"

"Oh, I know all kinds of things, like that you ain't going to hurt me while there's a camera up in the corner recording everything."

Arthur smirked, and looked up toward the camera, easily long enough for Eggsy to switch their glasses. His eyes glinted meanly when he turned back to see Eggsy drinking deeply from one tumbler.

"Clever. I can almost understand what Harry sees in you. But as it happens, I requested the camera be turned off for our little meeting."

"So what kind of 'means' am I look at here?"

"None, my boy, if you are reasonable," Arthur said, and then began to parrot that ridiculous gaia theory bullshit, with something less than the fanatical conviction of a true believer. The glimmer in his eye as he spoke told Eggsy Arthur'd decided he could get something out of the new world order of survival of the richest. Typical shit. Eggsy only really tuned back in when Arthur got to the punchline.

"If you can convince your husband to see reason, and join us, I see no reason why both of you can't have a place of power and comfort."

"There's two problems with your proposal though," Eggsy said, leaning forward, "One, Harry may be fond of me, but I can't talk Harry into switching brands of tea, let alone permitting genocide, and two? I ain't convinced, neither. That don't sound like real science to me. You sure you didn't get that from some cheap conspiracy theory website?"

"Cheeky little brat," Arthur hissed, and pulled out… a pen. Huh. "Do you know what this is?"

"A pen."

"It's good to see Merlin has had _some_ discretion where you were concerned. Suffice it to say, if I pull the switch on this pen, the poison I put in your drink will activate and kill you. This is your last chance."

"Sorry, bruv, your sales pitch was shit," Eggsy shrugged.

Arthur died quick enough, after pulling the switch, choking and gagging and cursing, before thumping to the table.

Good thing the camera was off, after all.

Eggsy snatched Arthur's phone from the table, and scrolling through the list of names, hoping rather fervently that Merlin was not going to be too upset about Eggsy offing his boss.

Maybe Eggsy wouldn't mention that part.

Merlin picked up on the first ring, "Arthur where-"

"Merlin, it's Eggsy," 

"Eggsy, thank god, how did Arthur find you?"

"I don't think he so much found me as… he was already here. In the creepy evil lair, or wherever the hell I am. Look, seriously, I think this place is carved into a mountain, the walls are solid fucking rock. And he wasn't in a cell or anything, just strolling around, free as anything."

Merlin was silent for a moment, "Are you saying Arthur is compromised?"

"Look, he tried to sell me on this total bullshit plan of killing everyone to save the world, fucking sick, and--"

"Eggsy. EGGSY," Merlin cut in fiercely, "I'm tracking your location from the phone, but it'll be at least three hours until we can get to you. Can you play along with him until we get there?"

Eggsy cut his eyes over to Arthur's slumped form, eyes still open, glassy and staring.

"Yeah, um, he. Um. So, he had this pen, and--"

"Put it in your damn drink, did he? Just play along for now, I can sort that once we come get you, try not to worry about it," Merlin said, though he sounded anxious.

"No, just. There was a mix up with the glasses. So. He's dead."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. The connection was staticky enough that Eggsy wasn't sure if it was that Merlin hadn't heard him, or that he had heard him, and suddenly regretted promising to rescue him.

"Merlin, you still there?" 

"Eggsy…" Merlin trailed off.

Eggsy got it. After all, what did Merlin know about Eggsy, except that he'd shown up, married to his coworker with no explanation? And 17 years later, it obviously wasn't going to matter whose son he was, not when he'd offed the man's boss.

"I got no way to prove it to you, do I? I just--"

"Actually, I think you might," Merlin cut in sharply, "You have Arthur's phone, yes? I want you to check his recent messages, and emails, see if he brought anyone else in on his plans."

Eggsy pulled the phone away from his ear and swiped over to the most recent texts. There weren't many conversations, Arthur was either deleting them, or he didn't text much. There was an earlier message about "delivering the 'o' to 'V'," which Eggsy assumed referred to his own kidnapping. Nice. But there was a newer one that looked more promising.

>   
>  **Kay:** We need an edge in HQ if anyone gets suspicious. I can ride it out in the armory, that should be secure enough.  
> 

Eggsy read it off to Merlin, who sighed, blowing static into the speaker, "They always were cronies, damn it. Ok, I'll check out your lead, Eggsy, and if it's on the money, we'll have what we need to come get you. In the meantime, I want you to get yourself and Harry to safety, can you do that?"

"What? Harry's here?"

"Valentine used you as leverage to nab him - thank God he's too squeamish to have just shot him outright, but I wouldn't put money on his long term health and safety if that bodyguard of his catches up to either of you. Check the other cells. Put Arthur's glasses on, so I can check in with you. Oh, and take his jacket with you as well, it's bulletproof."

"You all really committed to this tailor thing, didn't you?"

"We'll have time for your witty comments later, Eggsy, now get _moving_ ," Merlin barked, and then ended the call.

With his hoodie switched out for the suit jacket, and the frankly enormous glasses on, Eggsy thought he probably looked enough like a hipster to pass for one of the rich arseholes who actually belonged here, but he still didn't exactly want to run into a guard or anything. He crept cautiously back towards the cells, only to realize that the rows of metal doors was basically endless. 

Would they have put him next to Harry? One of the doors was standing open, and it may have been his, open and waiting for Arthur to put him back in it. He peeked inside to see if it looked familiar, and the guard inside stared back at him. 

"Oh, were you waiting for me? I was just on my way back, you know, thought I'd take a nap through the end of the world, yeah?"

"Where's your escort?" The guard asked, raising his gun, "put your hands where I can see them and step in the cell."

"I'm just so compliant, I didn't even need an escort. See?" Eggsy said, putting his hands up. And then he ducked around the corner of the door, and flattened himself against the wall out of sight. The guard, predictably, came boiling out the door, gun held high. Eggsy kicked upward, smashing the gun and his foot into the guy's face. Then, Eggsy spun to face him and kneed him in the balls, bringing the guard down, groaning, so he could grab his gun and bludgeon him again, until the man went silent and still. 

"Excuse me, what the fuck is going on out there?" One of the doors rattled fiercely in its frame.

"Harry!" Eggsy ran to the door and opened the little window.

Harry's gorgeous, familiar face was framed in the small space, his brown eyes wide with shock.

"Eggsy! They brought you here? Are you alright?"

"Depends. By the way, how attached were you to your boss?"

"What, Arthur?" Harry frowned, "Did something happen to him? Eggsy…"

"Actually, nevermind that. If I let you out, will you kiss me?"

"If you don't let me out, I'll put you over my knee," Harry said repressively.

"Oh? And then what?"

"And then I'll save the damn world, darling, now figure out a way to get this door open."

Eggsy winked, "I'd hoped you were going to say something... else," but he got to work, searching the guard, hoping he had a key or something, even though the only obvious way to open the door was the keypad.

"You were so innocent when I met you. What happened? Is this my fault?" 

"'Oi, I was hardly innocent, getting into your car when I hardly knew you, and following you into some hotel."

His pockets were empty. Eggsy could try banging out a couple of combinations. He thought he knew Valentine's birthdate - then again, Valentine was totally the type of guy who'd blow up the cell if too many wrong numbers got entered.

"True. Holding my hand and falling asleep on my shoulder were the actions of a true deviant. I should have seen it then."

Eggsy didn't answer, because there it was. Scrawled in pen on the guard's hand was a string of numbers. Clearly the pass code had been too tricky for him to memorize.

The door clicked open with a cheerful beep with the combination entered. A second later, Harry had Eggsy up against the wall, and was kissing him. 

Harry broke away, panting slightly, "Now, let's go saving the fucking world."

♠ 

Together, they began taking out the guards roaming the halls, locking their prone forms in their abandoned cells, while Merlin coordinated the Kingsman response on his end.

"I'm going to have Roxy take out one of Valentine's satellites, but Amrita and I will be there to provide you more support soon. I need you to get me into Valentine's servers," the noise of the jet making Merlin harder to hear.

"Did he say Roxy is going to take out a satellite?" Eggsy asked Harry, "He knows she hates heights, right?"

"Merlin rarely takes personal preferences into account. Also, I bet Percival didn't have the foresight to fit her for a suit," he added smugly.

"Is that why you made Amrita get fitted? Because it's bulletproof, 'an all?"

"I should have had one made for you as well, since apparently there's no keeping you out of trouble."

 

They looked, but couldn't find any server access in the tunnels.

"I'll have to go up into the main room," Harry said, "wait here."

"Like hell I will," Eggsy shot back, "Valentine knows what you look like!"

"He knows what you look like as well, if you'll remember our Happy Meal date with him."

"Then we'll both go," Eggsy said.

"I'm going to regret this," Harry muttered.

 

A few minutes later, a knife held to his neck, Eggsy was starting to think Harry was right. 

Finding someone with a computer, and then taking him out had gone smoothly enough, the poor bastard hadn't been able to take his eyes off Eggsy, bragging easily about his access. Harry took him out with a dart, and got Merlin patched in, but then Charlie, of all people, showed up out of nowhere to hold Eggsy hostage.

"Move, and I'll slit his throat," Charlie told Harry.

"Would you really? You know, Merlin told me just how persistently you wooed him - and you'd kill him now, just like that?"

"Are you joking? He's just a pleb! I wanted to get ahead, not marry him, like an old fool," Charlie spat.

"I may be an old fool, but Eggsy is worth ten of you."

"At least thirty," Eggsy interrupted.

"Make it an even fifty, darling," Harry grinned.

"Shut it, both of you!"

"You're a spoilt, snivelling, coward, Charlie. Put down the knife before you get hurt."

"You'll get hurt," Charlie hissed back, and then yelled out into the crowd, "Valentine, I've caught some fucking spies!"

"Shit," Harry cursed, his eyes, wide with panic, locked on to Eggsy's.

"Eggsy," Amrita's voice crackled in his ear, "I need you to duck in three… two…"

Eggsy made his body go limp, Charlie adjusted the knife away from his neck to keep his hold on Eggsy's torso, and that's when things started… exploding. 

Something wet hit the back of Eggsy's neck, and Charlie fell, boneless, to the ground, almost taking Eggsy with him. Harry grabbed him up, and breathed, "run."

"I did it," Eggsy heard Roxy cry out over the comm, "the satellite is down!"

"Good girl, Roxy!"

Around them, the heads of the rich and powerful were bursting into multi-colored plumes of - Eggsy didn't want to know.

"What the fuck?" He cried, as he and Harry skidded around a corner, avoiding the corpses falling everywhere. 

"We activated the explosive device Valentine had planted in the necks of his chosen people," Merlin explained over the comm.

"Seemed like a good way to get you out of your mess," Amrita added, sounding viciously pleased. "By the way, we've landed, so I'm on my way up to give you a hand with anything left over."

Valentine's voice boomed over the speakers, screaming that they hadn't stopped him.

"As our host has just loudly informed us he's still alive, I appreciate the offer," Harry said.

"It was kind of nice of him to let us know, wasn't it?" Eggsy asked.

"Indeed. Let's go show him why it was a bad idea."

 

Three-on-two weren't fair odds. Even if Valentine's henchwoman had springy swords for legs, she couldn't take on all three Kingsman trained fighters at once, and the fight was short and brutal. As soon as her body hit the floor, Harry shot Valentine in the head.

"I thought Kingsman valued life? I remember hearing something like that," Eggsy remarked dryly.

"He was a second away from slapping his hands down on that console and killing fuck knows how many people," Harry replied, "so I think what you meant to say was 'thank you.'"

"Isn't there some traditional way I'm meant to thank you for saving the world then?" Eggsy asked, wrapping a hand around Harry's tie, and pulling him closer.

"I don't need to see this," Amrita said, "I'm heading back to the plane."

"No one needs to see this," Merlin added, "least of all me. And you still have work to do." 

♠

After the world is officially saved, and the surviving celebs and dignitaries bundled off to their respective homes, they crack open a few bottles of champagne, and straggle onto Merlin's jet.

"Eggsy, you must know I never meant to put you in any danger, or get you tangled up in my work," Harry said, drawing him aside. 

"What, cause you thought I'd actually believe that shite 'bout you bein' a tailor for more than five minutes?"

"That may have been a bit optimistic on my part, but beyond what I owe your family, Eggsy, I just--," Harry paused, and took off his glasses. He pressed his hands over his eyes, and continued, "--I find I actually cannot bear the thought of you getting hurt," he moved his hands from his eyes, and stared into Eggsy's, "I've seen enough death and pain in my lifetime that I thought I was completely numb to it. But when I saw you with Charlie's knife to your throat..."

"Cause I'm an omega?"

"Fuck that. Because I love you, you utter brat. I know you're more than capable of handling yourself, but really, you can't expect me to want you to be up to your neck in danger on a regular basis!"

"I think the ship has sailed on that one, Harry, saving the world is an immediate qualifier for entry into Kingsman. It's in the bylaws," Merlin said, not turning around from the pilot's seat.

"Do you mind?" Harry said, "This is a private conversation between a married couple."

"I do mind, actually, because I know if you two make up, there will be inappropriate things happening on this plane that I do not want to see."

"I wish," Eggsy sighed.

"Plus there are rules," Harry added.

"That can be changed, now that their biggest proponent is, well," Merlin coughed delicately.

"We should give you a code name. How do you feel about Guinevere?" Roxy asked. She was slumped way down in her seat with exhaustion, but her eyes were twinkling.

"This your way of telling me you'd like me to run off with you two, Roxy? I don't mind, you're both fit, an' all."

"On second thought, let's go with Excalibur," Amrita said, "speaking of which, if world-saving is an automatic in, which one of us gets Lancelot?"

"As it happens," Merlin said, "There's an position for Kay that's just happened to open up. You can fight out the names between you."

"Do I get a say in any of this?" Harry asked.

"Not unless you want to be Arthur," Merlin called back.

"Nevermind."

"You don't really want to keep me out of Kingsman, do you Harry?" Eggsy asked innocently.

"I want to keep you tied to the bed posts, you wretched brat. Saving that, I'll settle for you being happy. If you're in Kingsman, at least I can keep an eye on you." 

"You're the one needs looking after! And Harry, I wasn't going to tell you this, but - can you keep a secret?"

"You know I can," Harry said dryly.

"Uh huh," Eggsy said skeptically, and then leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear, "I love you, too."

THE END


End file.
